A Rose By Any Other Name
by Candie Winston
Summary: Remember when we were kids, how no one was better than anyone else? There were no words or names that separated us, the only thing that mattered was that you had fun being around each other. Sometimes things never change.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Look who it is!**  
 **If you don't know who I am then hi! Please refrain from reading any of my other stories! I haven't posted on here in about two years and literally all of the stories I have posted on here are shit! But at the same time I don't really want to take them down, because I feel like they're a part of me, y'know? And they just show how much I've improved!**  
 **And if you do know me, welcome back! I don't you if you leave right now. I'm honestly surprised you even came this far. Though if you're still here I'd like to point out that most of the stuff I have posted on here I wrote when I was twelve. Some of the earliest chapter of** _ **Girl Who Cried Wolf**_ **I wrote when I was eleven. I'm fifteen now, so I've obviously improved some.**

 **Anyways, now the the relevant part of this author's note. I know I'm not exactly known for updating regularly, but as of right now I already have five chapter written in advanced to give me some time to write the other chapters, just so I hopefully am able to update regularly. How often I update will depend on how many reviews this gets, but it will either be once a week or once every five days. I plan on having a steady schedule for updating, so it probably will be longer than two days, but who knows! I promise to have the next chapter up next week at the latest.**

 **Now, this story is very closely based off of a story I had posted a year or two ago called** _ **A Forbidden Love**_ **, so if the first few chapters seem familiar that's because I'm for the most part just re-writing them. But I've read it over a few times, found some of the main plot flaws, and I am intending to fix it up as much as possible while trying to keep it along the same lines. I'm also taking in to consideration what the readers said they did and didn't like about the story in the reviews. So I think this is going to turn out pretty good!**

 ***Ten years ago**

 _It was my first day at a new school. My brother Dallas and I had just moved from New York to Tulsa, Oklahoma last week, so I hadn't really had enough time to make any friends yet. It was during our first recess that day that I learned Dally could make friends a lot faster than I could._

 _I had been following him around all recess so far. I noticed as soon as recess started that he was annoyed with me following him and his friends around, so I figured the only way he'd let me continue to hang around him and his friends would be if I were to stay quiet and for the most part just keep to myself. So that's exactly what I did._

 _It didn't seem to be enough though, I thought as Dally grew fed up. "Go away Candie!"_

 _"C'mon Dally. She ain't even said anything all recess. She isn't bothing anyone." One of the boys said. I didn't know any of my their names. This particular boy looked to be around my age, possibly a year older than me, so he was definitely younger than Dallas._

 _"She's bothering me." he snapped, then glared at me. "I said go away!"_

 _His friend shot me an apologetic glance before walking away with Dallas and the rest of the group. I sighed and hung my head. I headed towards the jungle jim where a bunch of kids my age were playing and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. If my own brother wouldn't put up with me, who would?_

 _"What's wrong girl?"_

 _I looked up and I saw that the voice came from a boy who appeared to be a few years older than me. Beside him stood a boy who was in my class. I was in a split grade one/grade two class, and from what I could recall he was in grade two. I looked over the two boys, wondering whether I should answer them or not. Before school today, my brother told me that I should be careful who I made friends with. More specifically, he told me not to be friends with anyone who looked like they came from a family that had a lot of money. I didn't understand why that mattered, but he simply said that I'd thank him one day. The boy who spoke had a ring on his finger that looked like it might have been made from gold. If that didn't count as a family with money, I didn't know what did._

 _Still, these boys didn't seem mean or scary. If anything, Dallas' friends seemed scary. The one boy looked like he might have been in grade five! And there had to be a reason why he didn't want me hanging out with those boys, and so I figured that since these boys looked nothing like the other boys, it stood to reason that I'd be in the clear._

 _"My brother is being a big poo-poo head." I sulked, pouting my lower lip._

 _The two boys looked at each other and seemed to comunicate something with out using words. "What's your name?"_

 _"Winston- er, Candie. I'm Candie Winston." I corrected myself. Back in New York, Dallas always intoduced himself with his last name first, and it was a habit I started to pick up on. "What's yours?"_

 _"I'm Bob, and this here beside me is Randy." He greeted. Randy nodded in acknowledgement. "Winston, huh? Would your brother happen to be Dallas Winston?"_

 _I nodded. "Yeah."_

 _Bob and Randy whispered to eachother for a minute or two before Randy ran off leaving me confused. "Dallas is in my class. He seems really grumpy." Bob commented, before changing the subject. "The teacher said something in class today about you and your brother moving here from New York. How do you like it here so far?"_

 _I shrugged. "It's okay." I told him. "I liked my old school more, though. Everyone there was really nice."_

 _"Everyone here is nice too, just a different kind of nice." Bob tried to explain. "I've noticed that everyone here is nice, just not to everyone,"_

 _I frowned. "Why wouldn't you be nice to everyone? What if you hurt your friend's feelings?"_

 _"It's not like that. I just mean, people here only seem to be nice to the people in there group of friends." He said it almost as if he were more thinking out loud than talking to me._

 _Randy came back and he and Bob started whispering again. I wondered why they whispered so much. I tried to listen to what they were saying, but all I could make out was bits and pieces of what they were saying. "We should-... But she's-... Seems nice-...Really?..." I ended up just zoning them out, because what I was hearing wasn't making any sense to me._

 _"Wanna be our friend, Candie?" Randy spoke up._

 _I didn't really know what to say. On one hand, they seemed like someone Dallas wouldn't approve of. On the other hand, Dallas hadn't let me hang out with him, so maybe he would just be glad that I'll be leaving him alone. Plus, Bob seemed to be nice, so I only assumed that Randy was too if they were friends. And Bob said that everyone was nice to the people in their group of friends, so that means he'd be nice to me. I wasn't in a position to turn down friends, but I didn't want Dallas to get mad at me. If push comes to shove, I could always lie though.._

 _"Sure!" I replied happily. They both smiled at me and decided to show me around the school yard._

 _The rest of the day went by fast. Bob and Randy introduced me to all of their friends, which seemed to be about half of the kids from grade one to grade three. By the end of the day there was no longer a doubt in my mind that these were the kinds of kids that Dallas told me not to be friends with. I liked them, though. Even though Dallas wouldn't aprove, that was no reason I shouldn't be friends with them. I just wouldn't tell him. What Dallas doesn't know won't kill him._

 _When I saw Dallas after school he looked like he had been beat up. There was a bruise on the left side of his face, one forming on his shoulder, and he had a busted lip. "What happened Dallas?" I gasped._

 _Dallas rolled his eyes. "Shut it." He snapped._

 _I wanted to ask him what's wrong, but it didn't seem like a wise thing to do. Dallas was mad, and you better stay clear of him when he's mad. If you don't, then you're in a lot of trouble._

 _The rest of the walk home was silent. I didn't have anything to tell Dallas. Well, nothing I could tell him. Dallas was already mad, and I hated it when he was mad. Especially if it was at me. Even if I could tell him about all my new friends At least not while he was in this mood._

 _We got to our house in no time, seeing as we only lived a few blocks away. I was about to head inside when Dallas stopped me. "Hey Candie, did you make a friend named Paul? Grade five, looks like the kind of person I told you to stay away from?"_

 _I shook my head. "Nope. I've never met anyone named Paul in my entire life. And I only really met people in grade three and under." I told Dallas, holding up three fingers. It wasn't a lie._

 _I wasn't sure what answer Dallas was looking for, but that didn't seem to be it. He pushed past me into the house and stormed into his room._

 ***Present day**

That was exactly ten years ago.

It was the first day of grade eleven, and I was just getting out of bed. Well, struggling to find the energy to get out of bed. I continued lying in my bed just staring at my alarm clock for about five minutes before I finally got up and turned it off. I walked over the the radio I keep on my dresser and turned it on, cranking the volume as loud as it would go. Some Beatles song was on and I could hear Dallas groan in the room over. Chucking to myself, I grabbed a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt from my dresser and threw them on quickly. I looked in my mirror and realized that the shirt I was wearing must have been Dallas' old ones. Rolling my eyes, I changed it quickly to one of my own.

I left my room, and as I was passing Dallas' room I noticed he was leaning against the door frame, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Do you mind? Not all of us are planning on going to school today."

I yawned and shook my head. "Who said I was going to school?" I half mumbled. "Want me to make you some food?"

Dally rolled his eyes but didn't bother saying anything about my first comment. He sighed and followed me out to the kitchen. "Sure, I guess. Whatcha makin'?"

 **..VvVvVvVvV..**

As soon as I got to school I regretted going in the first place. The halls were loud. I was tired. Life is short. These were just three of the many reasons my mind came up with as to why I shouldn't be here. Needless to say, it was a given that I'd be out of here as soon as my fist period was over. I internally groaned when I saw my first period. Geography.

That was almost enough for me to drop everything and leave. Except I always showed up to my first period class. The only teachers who really bother taking attendance are the first period teachers, so as long as you always show up to your first period class you'll get a perfect attendance. That wasn't really something I actually cared that much about, but there's so little work required to achieve it I figure I might as well.

I might change my mind, though, now that my first period was geography.

I got to class early, around ten minutes before the warning bell rang, but I was surprised to see that almost all the desks were already taken. I noticed a few empty spots still open closer to the back of the class and a few in the front, so I decided to take the closest desk to the back. On one hand, that's around where a lot of the socs sit. On the other hand, that's were I'd be the least likely to get caught sleeping in class. Which was exactly what I planned to do, right after attendance.

A few minutes later the last kid walked into our class. It was still before the warning bell, so he looked surprised by the fact that he was the last kid. I was too, to be honest. Last year half the kids in my classes showed up late.

The kid sat down beside me, seeing as it was the only desk left. He smiled politely at me, then began to take his stuff out of his bag. I'd seen the kid around, he was a greaser, like me. Actually, he was in my brother's gang. I couldn't remeber his name, though. It was a real weird name, too. I was surprised I couldn't remeber it. Pony-something. I think it was Ponykid. Or Ponylad. Maybe Ponyman.

I sat there trying to remember the kids name for the for about ten minutes, before finally class had started. I listened to the teacher take attendance until I heard the teacher call his name. "Ponyboy Curtis?"

I got lost in my thoughts, after that. Ponyboy? Who the hell names there kid that. I mean, I guess the guy wanted to be original, but I think he was trying to hard.

I had a steady train of thought up until I heard the teacher start to call my name.

"Candie Wi-"

"That's my name!" I cut her off. "Candie. My name is Candie."

The teacher glared at me, before continuing along the list. I shrugged it off, and but my bag on my desk to use as a pillow. Attendance had been taken. It was on the record that I wasn't absent, and that's all I came here for. So, without further ado, it was nap time.

 **..VvVvVvVvV..**

"Hey greaser." I heard a vioce snarl. In all honesty, I was too tired to deal with anyone, so I kept my eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep. They didn't seem to take the hint, though, as they continued. "Class is over ya' lazy bum." When I still refused to open my eyes or even acknowledge that they were saying anything, they kicked my shin fairly hard. "I said get up!"

I winced slightly at the kick and swat my hand where I assumed they were, but only getting air. It was then I opened my eyes and saw it was Bob. "Fuck off soc. I'm tired."

I closed my eyes again, but I knew I Bob was rolling is eyes. "Jeez, didn't know you liked geography so much." he smirked.

"I'm up!" With that, I opened my eyes and shot up out of my seat. A faster than I should have, though, and I ended up tripping over my own feet. Luckily, Bob grabbed me by the arm and steadied me.

"Watch it, greaser," Bob whispered. "We're not supposed to be friends, remember?"

I looked back at Bob's friends. Most of them looked uncomfortable, others were glaring at the greasers. Randy, on the other hand, looked bored an annoyed. "'Ey Bob, why'd you catch her? Shoulda let the greaser fall." his voice matched his facial expression; bored and annoyed.

Bob turned to Randy, and his facial expression changed to match his friend's. "Well, it was my intention to push her down harder, but seeing as you just ruined it I can't now, can I?"

"You drama queens are causing a scene." I muttered, mainly to myself but I knew most of the kids in the class heard me. It was true, though. There were still a few greasers in the class, and they all looked ready to back me up if a fight broke out. One kid. who I knew by the name or Curly Shepard, already had his blade out and was trying out his most intimidating glare. It was a shame that kid thought he could be scary; didn't he know he only got his reputation from being Shepard's kid brother?

Randy looked up from Bob and I to take a look at the greasers, before rolling his eyes. "Whatever, we're leaving."

Randy and the other socs began filing out of class, but Bob stayed a few seconds longer, glancing between me and Curly. I gave him an impatient look. "You can let go of my arm now." I told him with a bitchy grin.

The greasers started chuckling, and I even heard a few of the socs snickered. Bob glared at me, his face turning slightly red, then turned to leave. Just before they left, Randy pulled a crumpled up piece of paper out of his pocket and threw it at my head. I just shook my head and picked up the piece of paper. "Real mature, Randy."

He just shrugged and left the class. After all the socs were gone I grabbed my bag and left, headed towards my locker. As soon as I opened it I shoved my bag in then smoothed out the piece of paper Randy threw at me. I assumed it was a note; this was how they passed them to me without it being obvious. It read:

 _'We're skipping. Meet us at "The Tree"_  
 _~Bob'_

I grinned to myself. I was glad they wanted to skip too, or else I'd probably just sit around the house with Dallas, and that was never too much fun. But now that I didn't need to worry about being bored out of my mind, I just needed to worry about not getting caught.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you guys so much for favoriting and following an reviewing. It really means a lot. I'm going to reply to your reviews at the end of the chapter, I just don't want to accidentally give anything away up here.**

 **Also, I'd like to apologize. I'm posting this a day later than I meant. I didn't sleep at all yesterday, and I was just so tired I forgot. It shouldn't happen again.**

"Hey, I saw the socs were giving you a rough time back there." I heard someone say. I quickly shoved the note in my pocket and turned around to face the voice. Of course, it was none other than Curly. "The name's Sheppard. Well, Curly is my first name."

I rolled my eyes. Did the kid think it was possible that a greaser wouldn't know him? His older brother Tim had quite a reputation, and everyone knew he had a kid brother. From what I could tell Tim was proud of the kid, he talked about him a lot. "I'm Candie."

It was around grade two or three I broke the habit of introducing myself with my last name, like Curly just had. When I was little I was just so proud of being Dallas' kid sister, I felt compelled to use my family name. I wanted people to know who I was, but I just started to realize at some point that there wasn't much to be proud of. Back in New York our father had a reputation, so the name Winston meant something, but in Tulsa the name Winston was just associated with Dallas. I know to some people it would be reason enough to show off, but he's really not that great. Even if I thought he was, it sure wouldn't get me anywhere with my friends.

"Candie, huh? You got a last name?" Curly asked, leaning against the locker beside mine.

"Winston." I told him, before quickly trying to change the subject. "Why are you so proud of your family? I mean, I assume you are since you introduce yourself with your family name. I could see Tim doing that since people actually call him Sheppard, but you're known by Curly."

"Winston? As in Dally?" Curly questioned, completely disregarding my question.

I sighed and slammed my locker shut, then locking it. "Yeah, I'm his kid sister. Any more questions?"

He seemed content with my reponse, so he went back to my question. "My brother's Tim Sheppard, y'know, _the_ Tim Sheppard. He's got a reputation around, everyone knows who he is. I mean, why wouldn't I be proud? I just want everyone to know. You've gotta understand, right? You're Dal's kid sister!"

I chuckled sarcastically and shook my head. "And up until now, did you know Dallas had a sister?"

He seemed to think for a minute, before looking at me confused. "Why doesn't anyone know about you?"

I shrugged. "Neither of us really feel we have anything to brag about. I mean, we get along okay I guess, we talk a bit, I make him breakfast if he's actualy awake in the morning, we insult each other, the normal sibling stuff. But I don't really think he's that great. I mean, he's just a hood."

Curly seemed baffled that I'd even dare say that, but then another thought seemed to cross his mind. "How do I not know you? I mean, shoot, between your brother and mine I've seen about every greaser girl in Tulsa. Even the ones they didn't sleep with will hang around sometimes if their friends are with them."

"I could hang out with the few girls you don't know." I mutter.

He shook his head. "Nice try there, girlie, but they don't exist." he looked so proud of himself, until he started thinking. "Girls aren't usually in gangs, so you wouldn't be part of any gangs I haven't met, and really that only leaves-"

"I don't have any friends." I cut him off, glaring. "They'd all just see me as Dallas' kid sister, and I don't want that. I either want my own name for myself or no name. But don't you _dare_ even _suggest_ I'd even _consider_ being friends with those scum."

"You sure got your brother's temper." I heard him mumble under his breath. "Remind me again, why don't you want to be known as Dal's kid sister?"

"He's just some hood! All he does is steal shit, go out of his way to break laws, get in fights, dirty talk girls until they either run away or sleep with him, he's got this God complex or something where he thinks he's better than everyone just because he's got a record that's a mile long. I don't understand why that stupid greaser even thinks that anything to brag about." I rant.

Curly made a face and what about to say something when a voice interupted him. "Hey love, birds." the voice teased.

I turned around to see Bob with some other socs, and boy was I glad. I really just wanted to get away from Curly. I looked through the group and noted that I only recognized Bob and David, but it didn't matter that much to me. David was the most sarcastic and dramatic bastard I knew, though, so I had to prepare myself for the worst.

I glared at them and tried my best to look annoyed. "What do you want, _Robert_?" I asked. _Well, at least I succeeded at making myself sound annoyed_ , I thought to myself. I was pretty sure I started smiling half way through, but if anyone said anything I'd try to play it off like it was supposed to be a bitchy grin.

"Yeah, what _do_ you want?" Curly spoke. I turned back and gave Curly a blank stare. Was that really the best he could come up with? He must have noticed me staring, and he just shrugged up me. I saw David chuckle and lean against a locker with his arms crossed, shaking his head. He was probably thinking the same thing as me.

"Well actually," Bob started. "I was just going to get this little greaser here to come for a nice, 'friendly walk'." Bob explained, using air quotes.

"Why do you always pick on her?" Curly said with a glare. I surpressed the urge to sigh dramatically and stare at him. This kid was terrible at come backs, and talking in general. It seemed like all he knew how to do was as questions.

"She a fun little broad to mess with." Bob smirked. "Being Dallas' kid sister and all."

I grinned to myself, remembering the day we met. I started to fake cry, but it came out more as a laugh. "What's wrong girl?" Bob asked, laughing slightly.

"My brother's being a big poo-poo head." I fake sulked. Bob shook his head, both of us trying not to grin but failing miserably. In seconds with both cracked up, laughing hysterically. After a minute David cleared his throat, shooting us both a glare. Bob and I stopped laughing immediately, and started glaring at each other. "I can't believe I even spoke to you." I sneared.

Bob coughed a few times, probably to surpress his laughter, before he said anything. "I can't believe I even cared enough to ask you what was wrong. Meeting you is my biggest regret." he shot back.

"Ouch." I said sarcastically, putting a hand over my heart and pouting. "That really hurt."

"Oh you _know_ you care what I think about you." Bob smirked, smugly.

I went to saying something then stopped. I looked at him confused for a second, then looked over at the other socs to see Daivd smirking, looking equally as smug. He shot me a sarcastic grin then got up from his spot leaning against the locker, walking closer to me. "What's the matter, Princess? Don't like the truth?"

I ignored David completely and continued looking at Bob. "Where'd ya' hear that?" I questioned.

Bob jerked his thumb towards David, looking bored and unimpressed. "That idiot."

I leaned foward a bit and gave Bob the bitchiest grin I could pull off. "Well, we both know that's a load of bullshit." was all I said before giving Bob the finger and starting to walk off.

As I passed David he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. I looked at him weird and with his other hand he waved a blade. "Not so fast."

Bob looked at David giving him the biggest what-the-fuck face, before throwing his arms in the air and leaning against a locker. I looked up at David and grinned bitterly. "Really? Is this _really_ necessary?" I hissed.

"Completely, Princess." he assured and put the blade to my throat.

Bob when wide eyes and shook his head. "Mm. Bad idea. Draws attention." Bob waved his finger around. "We're in a school. _Teachers_."

David seemed to get his point and took the knife away. "As it is you're probably not going to get away with this." I pointed out.

Bob gave David a look. I hadn't said it in a threatening way, I was merely stating the obvious. The halls were pretty much empty, as most kids had already went to class(except for Curly, who was just standing there blade out, glaring at everyone. He was basically useless.), but the teachers were still roaming the halls telling kids to hurry up and get to class. It was a miracle that no teachers had walked by yet.

David seemed to come up with a plan, and he pointed the blade at me behind my back, poking my slightly with it. "We're getting away with it, Princess, like it or not. And if any greasers try following us." he looked directly at Curly. "It will be off with your head."

At some point while he was talking he started poking me a bit harder with the blade and I winced slightly. "Yeah, well if you poke me any harder with that blade it will be 'bye-bye lung!'"

"So sorry." he said, quite sarcastically I might add, and pulled the blade back so it was no longer poking me. "Is that better, Princess?"

I rolled my eyes and glared slightly. "Would you stop calling me Princess?" I demanded.

He didn't say anything for a second, and just started draggin me towards the door. I followed without hesitation, because I was pretty sure I would be needing my lung in the future. "I wouldn't say you're in any postition to be telling me what to do."

Bob walked up beside me and glanced at me. He handed me a tissue and simply stated "Your neck is bleeding."

I sighed and took the tissue, wiping the blood on my neck away. I glared at David through the corner of my eye, but I didn't think he noticed. His eyes seemed to be focussed on the front door, and as soon as we got out of the school I saw Randy leaning against the wall beside the door.

"Jesus, David! The hell are you doing?" Randy asked, adressing the knife.

I turned around quickly and swat the knife out of his hand. "Being a drama queen, that's what he's doing! For fuck sakes, could you not?!"

"Well, you know me, I always got to make a dramatic exit." he smirked.

I ignored David and turned to Bob. "Thank you for taking me away from the Sheppard kid! You're my hero!" I said dramatically, with a laugh, then turned to David. "You'd be my hero too, if you didn't put a blade to my throat."

We started walking around aimlessly. There wasn't much to do in Tulsa. The only places to go (the Dingo, the movie house, the arcade, ect.) would be crawling with greasers right now, so we didn't really have much to do. David stopped me and gave me a serious look. "You're trying to stay incognito to the greasers, right? Well you really lack stealth. Do you not realize how close you were to blowing your cover? And you thought throwing a few mean statements at each other would fix that?"

I sighed. He did have a point, and a good one at that. But at the same time. "Do you really think we'll be able to keep this a secret forever? I mean, someone's going to find out eventually." I reasoned with him.

Randy nodded and looked over at David. "She's got a point. It's actually suprising no one has figured it out yet."

Bob shrugged, and grabbed his flask out of his back pocket and took a swig. "I don't care if anyone finds out." Bob said to no one inparticular. I made grabby hands at his flask, and he smirked a bit before handing it to me.

"Good, because someone's gotta find out soon." I mumbled, before taking a swig out of Bob's flask.

"Yeah, when you guys start dating." David joked.

I rolled my eyes. "I was thinking more like when I don't show up with a bunch of cuts and bruises tomorrow." I pointed out, before taking another swig.

Bob chuckled. "She's definetly got a point." He stopped for a second, and turned around to look behind us. When he started up walking again he seemed a bit more tense than before. "Or hey, even more likely, when Dallas notices that you're walking with us."

I stopped dead in my tracks, as did everyones else. "Oh you've got to be shitting me." I muttered and turned around. Sure enough, there was Dallas, leaning up against a tree. I passed Bob's flask back to him him, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed him drink some and he seemed to be a bit less tense. "Hiya, Dallas." I faked a smile.

Dallas just looked up and glared at me, and I knew there was going to be trouble.

 **A/N: So, for the comment replies.**

 **Ponyboy'sgirlfriend: I tried really hard not to make her over the top, so the fact that you commented on that made me pretty happy. Originally she was as mary sue as possible. She was some badass chick who could fight just as well as her brother, she wasn't afraid of anything, and she was supposed to have the emotional capacity if her brother. So clearly I've changed her quite a bit. Thank you for noticing.**

 **Fluffy T. Banchuck: I know I've already told you this, but it honestly means so much to me that you've seen how shitty my writing use to be, but chose to still give it another chance. I probably will have a few chapters here and there that aren't that good, but I am confident when I say that overall, this will turn out way better than anything else I've written on here.**

 **Lovetoread75: Thank you. Just, overall, thank you. Many people aren't a huge fan of Candie(how I write her or her character in general), so it makes me very happy when people do like her. I originally only created her as an emotional outlet, and so I could put a piece of myself into The Outsiders, but honestly I've become so attached to her as a character- I'm rambling on. Sorry. But the fact that you like how I write her and Dallas means a lot to me. I find I often either nail Dally's character or just fuck up completely. Heads up for next chapter, I write him kind of differently. I'm not really sure how people are going to like it, but I didn't necessarily know how to keep him in character, and it kind of helps with the relationship development between Candie and another character, so.**

 **Thanks for the reviews guys, they're always appreciated. Hope y'all have a good week. Until next time.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys, here's chapter three. Thank you to Pony'sgirlfriend for reviewing, that's always appreciated.**

 **Two things I'd like to address. One, I know that people like how I've written Dallas in the first chapter, and I didn't write him like that in this chapter. Many of you guys might actually not like the characterization of Dally this chapter, but I feel the need to** **emphasize that this is not how I'm writing him throughout the story. He gets back to how I had written him in the first chapter the next chapter he's in I think, so don't worry about that.**

 **The other thing is, I was wondering if you guys like the weekly updates or if you'd rather I try to update a bit more often. I'm not really getting the sense that a lot of people are reading this, but if there are and you guys want me to update more recently I'd be happy to. I just finished the sixth chapter, so I've been writing a few chapters in advance, so I'd be able to update more often if you guys would like, but the reviews might slow down once school starts and become irregular. Whatever you guys want though, please leave it in a review.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

"So," I tried to make small talk, to possibly draw away some attention from the fact that my brother had just caught me hanging out with the socs. "I noticed you got out of the cooler early. Let me guess, good behavior?"

Dallas shook his head, but aside from the glare, that's all the acknowledgement I got. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only five minutes, he spoke. "What are you doing, Candie? Why are you hanging 'round these people?" His voice was like venom, and I was almost scared to answer because he'd just have more to say.

"Because they're my _friends_." I shot back, faking confidence. Bob must have noticed my fear, though, because he took a step closer to me in a protective manner.

"Friends?" He asked, laughing. "Friends. Really Candie? Have I not taught you anything? I can promise they're not your friends. They're socs. Heartless socs, that like to jump greasers like you. You know that, Candie. You've seen me after getting into fights with them. You've heard me tell you about what they've done to my friends, what they did to Johnny. You know how they are. What makes you so special?" he laughed again. But it wasn't a happy laugh. He seemed to be growing angrier by the second, and if he was a cartoon character he'd have smoke coming out of his ears right now.

Bob was glaring at Dallas, and to his credit I don't think I've ever seen him look this scary. I knew he couldn't scare Dallas, but I still wanted to cower behind him. Not that I would. Even if he could scare Dallas, I still have my dignity. Still, I couldn't help myself from moving a bit closer to Bob. "Well really, it was pure timing." I smirked and tilted my head a bit.

"Oh what, are you in love with the soc?" Dallas mocked.

David raised a finger behind me and spoke up. "I'm going to go with yes." he chimed.

I quickly turned around and glared at him. " _Drop it!_ " I yelled, and David quickly put his hand down.

"See Dallas, there one flaw with your theory." I mentioned. "Though I completely see where it would make sense to someone like you, I've been friends with these guys since we moved here. If they wanted to jump me they would have by now. Quite the contrary, though; they've actually been there for me when I needed them. Way more than you have."

Looking back, I realize that was stupid. But at the time it made sense. Dallas had never been that much of a brother. He taught me the basics, how to steal and not to be friends with socs, but aside from that he never seemed to care much.

I realized saying that was a mistake when Dallas still hadn't said anything a minute later. I had expected him to laugh bitterly, or start lecturing me or yelling at me, but nothing. Bob seemed to be confused, too, and he turned back to give Randy a confused face. At the same time, Dallas reacted. I couldn't even remember it happening. One second Dallas was glaring at me, then the next think knew there was a throbbing pain in the side of my face and Bob was going off on Dallas. I'm still not sure if it was a slap or a punch, but my money was on slap because there was only a small bruise.

I rubbed the side of my face and looked over at Bob and Dallas. "Bob stop." I mumbled. Bob turned and gave me a weird look, but backed off quickly before Dallas could take a swing at him while he wasn't looking.

"You might have her fooled, but you're not fooling me." Dallas glared at Bob for a minute, then turned to look at me. "Don't say I didn't warn ya'." And with that, he left.

 **..VvVvVvVvV..**

News travels fast.

Maybe not as fast as they do in those cliché high school movies, but they next day when I showed up at school it felt like everyone knew. A lot of the greasers were glaring at me, others were "accidentally" bumping into me. But on the bright side I didn't need to pretend I wasn't friends with the socs anymore.

I walked with Cherry to her locker after second period. She was babbling on about something I didn't care about; I think it had something to do with the cheer squad, but I wasn't really listening. All the glares I was receiving were distracting and they were making me feel slightly squirmish. That was, until I heard a voice behind me that made me forget about the glares all together.

"Candie? So the rumors are true." I turned around to see none other than Two-Bit Matthews smirking at me.

A few years back Two-Bit and I were actually pretty good friends. We were in the same kind of situation I was in with the socs, though. We both assumed that Dallas would have a problem with us being friends, since Dallas didn't like sharing his friends with me, so we decided not to tell anyone. Usually we only hung out on weekends, but sometimes we hung out at school.

 _ **-Flashback-**_

 _Today was one of the days where I wished I wasn't so dependent on Bob and Randy. They often introduced me to their other friends, and tried to get me to be friends with them too, but I never thought I'd need any more friends than Bob and Randy. If one of them was at home sick, usually the other one was at school. And they were in different grades, up until grade five, so if one of them had a field trip or something, the other one wouldn't. However, Bob had failed the grade last year, putting him in the same class as Randy, and today they were both away on a field trip. So here I was, sitting alone during my lunch hour._

 _I watched my brother from my spot sitting on top of the monkey bars. It was his fault I was so bored. If he wasn't so mean, I could be hanging out with him and his friends. Then again, I didn't really want to. From what I could see, they've just been picking on kids younger than them._

 _I continued to sit there for a few more minutes, until suddenly there was someone sitting beside me. "Hi!" the person said. I looked over at him to see him smiling at me. "I'm Two-Bit."_

 _I smiled back at him before nodding. "I know. You're one of my brother's friends." I informed him. "I'm Candie."_

 _The boy tilted his head slightly, and looked confused, but his smile didn't falter. "Who's your brother?" he asked me._

 _"Dallas." I responded. "Dallas Winston."_

 _The confused expression left his face completely, and he seemed to look even happier. "Why don't you come hang out with us then?" Two-Bit jumped off the monkey bars and waved for me to follow him. "It beats sitting here alone, don't it?"_

 _I shook my head and my smile fell slightly. "Dallas wouldn't like it. He doesn't like me hanging 'round him and his friends."_

 _"But if you explain to him that you don't have any friends-"_

 _"I do too have friends!" I retorted, pouting._

 _Two-Bit looked around for a minute before looking back up at me. "Are they imaginary?" he asked, but not in a teasing way, in a curious way. Still, though, I couldn't help but glare._

 _"_ No _." I sneered. "I'm friends with Bob Sheldon and Randy Anderson. Do those sound like imaginary names to you?"_

 _Again, Two-Bit tilted his head. "Aren't they socs?" he questioned._

 _"Aren't they whats?" I tilted my head like Two-Bit, matching his confusion._

 _Two-Bit shook his head. "Never mind. You know your brother would be real mad if he found out you were friends with them, right?"_

 _My eyes widened._ Oh shit. _I guess I didn't really thing that through. "You can't tell him! Please, don't tell him." I all but begged._

 _Two-Bit shook his head and laughed slightly. "I wouldn't do that, Candie. That'd just be mean."_

 _I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and smiled. "Why are you being so nice to me?"_

 _"I'm a nice guy." he grinned._

 _I chuckled and nodded. "I can tell."_

 _For the rest of the lunch hour Two-Bit and I walked around, talking about anything and everything. We were careful to avoid my brother, though. Neither of us were looking to have our head ripped off. When the bell rang to indicate that lunch was over, Two-Bit and I said goodbye and went our separate ways, but that wasn't the last we saw of each other._

 _ **-End of flashback -**_

"Aw hell, Two-Bit." I gave him a goofy grin. "You already knew that."

Two-Bit shook his head, still smirking at me. "Yeah, but I never thought it'd get out."

"No one did," I muttered.

I couldn't help but smile at Two-Bit, remembering when we use to always hang out. I had the biggest crush on him for the longest time. I thought he was the greatest person ever. We did end up dating for a short period of time when I was in eighth grade, but then out of no where we stopped talking. I've seen him a few times since then; we had a class together last year, but he rarely showed up. Even when he did, he was usually too busy sleeping to actually talk to me. We never did "officially" break up, now that I think of it.

I snapped out of my thoughts, only to find Two-Bit staring at me, smiling. "You grew up on me Candie." he shook his head. "You were never going to grow up. You were gonna stay my little Candie forever."

I grinned at him more and laughed a bit. When we were younger all Two-Bit ever wanted to do was grown up. I hear stories about Two-Bit now, and I sometimes find it hard to believe that it's really the same person. I, on the other hand, never wanted to grow up. I had no interest in doing grown-up things, like getting a job, paying bills, maintaining a house, paying taxes, ect. The whole concept was very unappealing to me. I just wanted to stay the same little kid I was then.

"I still am your little Candie." I told him. "I just got a bit taller."

"And you died your hair. Blonde, I like it," he smirked and put his arm over my shoulders. I rolled my eyes, but leaned into him. Everyone knew that Two-Bit had a thing for blondes. Rumor has it that some girls have bleached their hair, just so they'd stand a chance with him. I doubted that was true though.

Two-Bit and I stayed like that for what felt like not even ten seconds, until I heard a voice growl from behind us. "Hands to yourself, greaser."

Again, I rolled my eyes and I could see Two-Bit do the same, but he took his arm off my shoulders nonetheless. I knew it was Bob who said that. I could point out his voice anywhere, assuming I wasn't half asleep. Had it been almost any other soc I wouldn't be half as annoyed, but Bob knew damn well that if Two-Bit was bothering me I could deal with him myself.

Bob joined our little group, followed by Randy and David, and stood beside Cherry with his arms crossed. He often went into protective mode over me. He said he didn't think Dallas did a good enough job sticking up for me, so he'd do it himself. I blame it on the fact that he's three years older than me, so he always sees me as a baby.

"Who's this greaser you're letting put his arm around you?" Bob asked, glaring at both me and Two-Bit.

"Jesus, Bob. He wasn't trying to cop a feel, he's just a friend. Calm down." I told him, matching his glare. Two-Bit took a defensive stand beside me, which I only assumed was out of habit since Bob _was_ a soc.

"A friend, huh? What's his name." Bob looked Two-Bit up and down, and I could only assume he was judging my choice of friends in his head.

I didn't answer Bob, so he looked over at me and we seemed to get in a glaring match. I was slightly irritated with Bob for how he was acting, but I understood it. Though when we met he was completely indifferent to the whole greaser-soc thing, as any grade three would be, he became noticeably less indifferent as he grew up. I did, too, but seeing as all of my friends were socs I adopted their views on the matter. Not completely, though, because Dallas did have some influence on me, even if it was minimal.

Two-Bit seemed to decide that we probably weren't going to say anything any time soon, so he answered Bob himself. "My name's Two-Bit."

David raised an eyebrow and looked fairly amused. As I mentioned before, when I was in the eighth grade I was dating Two-Bit for a bit, and I really did like him a lot. But when we suddenly stopped talking I hated him more than anyone in the entire world. Grade eight was when I went through my cringey, drama-queen phase, so as soon as I realized I probably wasn't going to see Two-Bit any time soon I cried non-stop for what seemed like days. I bitched about him a lot, too. Needless to say, I probably told literally every single little thing he'd ever done that upset me to anyone who would listen. David included. Randy included. Bob included.

Bob looked over to Two-Bit and made a face as though he were trying to remember something. "Where have I heard that name before." he mumbled to himself.

David suppressed a chuckle and my nervous expression, but quickly covered for me. "He was the guy that got caught TPing the school last Halloween, Bob. Don't you remember?"

Bob nodded, still not convinced, but as he saw Marcia walk over to us his train of thought seemed to change. He turned to Cherry and grinned at her. "So, Randy and Marcia are going to the Nightly Double, and I was thinking maybe we could tag along with them, like a double date?"

Cherry's face seemed to light up and she nodded. "Sounds great! I'll see you later, then," and with that she headed off to her next class.

"I'm going to go catch up with her, we have home ec. together next." Marcia explained, before turning to me. "We really need to hang out together sometime. We could do makeovers and stuff."

"I'll check my schedule. But right now you should go catch up with Cherry while you still can." I told her, smiling politely.

"I've got to go drop this stuff off in my locker." Randy addressed the books he was holding. "But I'll see you in class Candie." and then he left too, followed by Bob who just nodded.

David crossed his arms and gave Two-Bit a serious look. "That's the last time I'm covering for you, greaser. I just didn't want to push our luck by causing a third scene in school in the past two days." he said. "And Candie, I hope you said a good good-bye to Cherry and Marcia. Let's just say that they won't be hanging out with us after tonight." and with that, David left too, just leaving me and Two-Bit.

"So..." I started, turning to Two-Bit. "You up to skipping with me?"

 **A/N: Reply time!**

 **Pony'sgirlfriend: Thank you for reviewing again (: I'm glad you seem to be liking it so far, and I'm glad you like how I've written Curly. I wasn't sure if people would like it, since I know a lot of people write him to be all tough and scary, but I just don't really see him like that. I thought people might not like it because it's not what they're use to. I might include him again in future chapters, but I'm not too sure. And I'd also like to say that there's some more interaction with Bob in upcoming chapters, and a few more flashbacks from when they were younger.**

 **To everyone else, I hope you liked this chapter, and please feel free to tell me what you thought of it. Reviews are always appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just telling you guys because I do use this term in the chapter, Five-oh-two was sixties slang for drinking and driving.**

 **Also, just a random thing I felt like telling you guys. I'm not planning on making Candie dye her hair some funky color, but if you see a writer on this site writing TO fanfiction and they make a character dye their hair blue or pink or something, before you attack them saying that it wasn't possible back in the sixties and no one did it, I'd just like to inform you that one of my grandparents showed me a picture of when they had purple hair. On the back, it was dated 1962. Just so you know.**

As it goes, I ditched school. _Again_. Only this time, I ditched with Two-Bit instead of Bob, Randy, and David. It was nice to catch up with him, and I found myself having more fun with him now that I don't have a crush on him than I did when I was younger. He was telling me all these funny stories about stuff he's gotten in trouble for, and pranks he pulled. He had just finished telling me about the time him and his friend Soda had gotten thrown in jail for the night for "disturbing the public peace".

"So, I'm assuming you heard Dallas got out of the slammer early. Good behavior. _Again_." I told Two-Bit.

Two-Bit chuckled and shook his head. "How many times has this happened now, five? What was he in for this time anyway?"

"Five-oh-two, if memory serves me right. It was something he hadn't gotten caught doing yet." I rolled my eyes. "He's just going to be back in next month."

"No he's not." Two-Bit smirked. "How would he personally make your life hell from the inside? You realize that's exactly what he's going to want to do now, right? I can only imagine he's taking this whole ordeal personally. He probably feels betrayed."

I groaned and covered my face with my hands. "I've wanted to stop hiding it for a while now. It just became so annoying pretending to hate them so much. But Dallas was never supposed to find out." I complained, grumpily.

"If you wanted to stop hiding it, why didn't you?" Two-Bit asked.

I shrugged. "Bob still wanted to keep it a secret."

Two-Bit sat up from his spot laying on the grass and turned to look at me. "Does that bother you?"

I stayed laying down, but turned my lead to look at him. "Who are you, my shrink?" I chucked, but shook my head then continued to look at the sky. "No, not really. He just thought it would draw a lot of unnecessary attention to me, and that'd cause more problems than it was worth. It's not like he was ashamed of me, all of his friends knew about me, he just felt it would be better to keep from the greaser. I think he might have been right."

Two-Bit just sat there, listening. He was good at that. He didn't pass judgement, and contrary to popular belief he could be serious, and he knew when to be. We both sat in silence for a few minutes before Two-Bit spoke up. "Hey, I told your brother I'd go to the movies with him and some of the guys, so I ought to be heading off. But if you ever need to talk," he opened up his arms and shrugged. "I'm here."

"Just stay away from Bob and Randy." I advised him. "And try to keep Dallas away from them for me, too. I don't need another reason for Dallas to get mad at me." Two-Bit nodded, and with a wave he left.

I decided to head home shortly after Two-Bit left. I had an uneasy feeling that wasn't going away and I just wanted to lay down, maybe sleep it off. There was something about Bob and Randy being at the Nightly Double the same time Dallas was going to be there that didn't sit right with me. I could dress up to make myself appeare like the greasiest girl there and watch from a distance to make sure nothing bad happened. Lord knows I have the clothes for it. A picked up the hand-me-down leather jacket Dallas gave me when I started high school and tried it on. It still fit, so why not? On the other hand, Dallas was pretty mad at me right now, so I didn't want to give him any more of a reason to be mad. I figured the best way to avoid making him angrier would to just avoid him altogether.

I took the jacket off and hung

it back it. I was probably just being paranoid. Usually when something bothers me, I find that music makes me feel better, so I walked over to my dresser and put on one of my Beach Boys records. I curled up in my bed, hugging my teddy bear, but the feeling still didn't go away. I wasn't even sure what I thought was going to happen. Someone might get jumped, big whoop. They're all big boys, they can deal with it themselves. They've all gotten in fights before. And despite how much Dallas likes to brag about his criminal record, he wouldn't want murder on there. So I didn't really have anything to worry about. Two-Bit said he'd keep Dallas away from Bob and Randy, anyhow. So I didn't have anything to worry about. It'd be best if I just closed my eyes and relaxed...

* * *

 _"You could use a bath, greaser. And a good working over. And we've got all night to do it. Give the kid a bath, David." That oh so familiar voice ordered. I looked around to find the voice, but all there was, was black. It was like I was standing in the middle of void._

 _I heard a bunch of quick footsteps, so I presumed people were running, then I heard a loud splash. Determined to see_ something _, I turned around, and this time there was something there. In the middle of the void stoof the fountain at the park, along with some boys. Bob, Randy, and David were there, but the others remain faceless. From what I could make out it was another soc, and two greasers. I felt a familiar vibe coming from the greasers, but I couldn't tell who they were due to them not having any faces._

 _Bob and David had one of the greasers at the fountain and were dunking him repeatedly, while Randy and the faceless soc were kicking the other greaser. Randy and the faceless soc grew bored fast, though, and left to join Bob and David at the fountain. I tried to walk over to them, to tell them to lay off, but I found my feet glued to the ground, so I was stuck obseving. Not wanting to watch my friends drown some helpless kid, I drew my attention to the greaser who was lying on the ground. I tried to tell if he was okay from the spot I was stuck in, and soon found out he was fine. That being said, he also appeared to be angry, and he grabbed a switchblade out of his back pocket._

 _He stood up slowly, but once he was up he wasted no time walking over to the socs, and he seemed to be directed at Bob. The closer he got to Bob, the more clear his face seemed to be. Clearest of all was a scar on his face, which seemed to have been caused by a ring. I remembered about a month ago Bob mentioning about a greaser he and David jumped. Said they got him real good, and from the look on this kids face it seemed to be a fair assumption that this was the kid he jumped. The kid didn't just look like he was trying to defend himself or his friend, his face read that it was personal. I tried to yell out, to warn Bob, but nothing came. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make a sound._

 _Luckily, the faceless soc looked back and saw Johnny headed towards Bob. "Look out!" he yelled, but not fast enough._

 _Bob turned around, looking confused and irritated, just in time for the kid to stab him in the chest._

 _David looked over, and that was all it took for him to forget about the greaser he was holding under water altogether and run. The faceless soc had started running the second Bob had been stabbed, so that just left Randy, who appeared to be in shock. When he didn't start running, David turned around and ran over to Randy and dragged him to the car, and they drove off at high speed._

 _Meanwhile, the greaser who had been held under water was just regaining consciousness, and the other greaser looked like he was about to faint. When the greaser who still remained faceless regained consciousness completely, the other greaser didn't even turn to look at him. He just sat against the fountain, staring at his now blood-soaked knife, and barely above a whisper stated: "I killed him."_

* * *

I shot up out of bed, breathing heavily. I heard my record skipping and a loud banging on the door. I got up quickly and ran to the door, only to be greeted by a very panicked looking Randy who was already inside my house. A million bad scenarios flooded my mind, but one stood out.

What Randy said only seemed to confirm my biggest fear. "Bob's in the hospital."

He didn't need to say anymore, I quickly exited my house and hopped in his car. Randy closed the door to my house and got in the car, speeding away immediately, before I hadn't even had time to fasten my seat belt.

I cursed Randy internally for having a convertible. Doing 85 in a convertible didn't go well with having long hair. I put my hand on the back of my head to try to keep my hair from flying all over the place, and thought about how annoyed I was with my hair. I just tried to keep my mind busy thinking about my hair, because that way I couldn't think about all of the worst-case-scenarios that could be happening with Bob.

It only took under five minutes to get to the hospital, since Randy was literally doing 85, but it seemed to take hours. The second Randy turned the car off he got out of the car and holding my door for me to do the same. I got out of the car, almost tripping, and ran into the hospital, straight to the front desk.

"Can you tell me what room, uh.." My heart was racing and I was drawing a blank. How could I be drawing a blank right now? I started laughing out of anger and frustration. "I'm drawing a blank. How am I drawing a blank? I've known him forever, and I can't remember his name." I started laughing harder and his my head against the desk, only I ended up hitting the service bell, which was unpleasantly loud.

Randy came up behind me and put a hand on my back, scaring the living shit out of me though I didn't move. "Robert Sheldon." he finished for me.

I couldn't see the girl since my head was still on the bell, but I could hear her rummaging through a few papers. Somewhere along the line, laughter turned into tears, though the laughter didn't fade away completely. I probably looked like I was nuts, and I could practically feel the pity radiating off the girl behind the front desk, but I couldn't bring it in me to care. Not ten minutes ago I was asleep, dreaming about some greaser killing Bob, and now here I was at a hospital, because something happened to Bob.

"What's your relation to the family?" the girl asked.

"He's our older brother." Randy lied. I eventually looked up, and saw the girl nod.

"Right this way," she told us, leading us through the hospital. "Robert is stable right now, and as far as we can tell right now it looks like he'll be fine in the long run. It's clear that the perpetrator's intent was to kill-"

"Perpetrator?" I cut her off. "What do you mean, what happened to Bob?"

"He was stabbed." Randy mumbled.

The nurse nodded, and I felt all the blood leave me face. She gave me a sympathetic look before continuing. "As I was saying, it's clear that the goal was to kill, but they seemed to just miss his heart. Bob's in a lot of pain right now, so we have him on a lot pain killers. His memory seems to be foggy, though, so he might not be able to testify in court. He's lost a lot of blood, so don't be alarmed by his complexion."

We were stopped outside of a door when she finished. I took a deep breath, almost afraid to go in, but I didn't let that stop me. I walked in, and though what I saw wasn't as bad as I was expecting, it still shocked me. He looked so pale, and almost lifeless. Though he wasn't as pale as he was in my dream, he had huge bags under his eyes which caused the illusion that his eyes were sunken in. His eyes could have been sunken in, too, but I didn't feel like thinking about how bad he looked.

Upon seeing Randy and I he smiled slightly and tried to sit up, only to have David, who I just noticed was here now, to push him back down. "Hey guys," he cracked half a grin.

I sighed and cracked my neck. Now that I wasn't near as worried about Bob, I was irritated that I still didn't know what happened to Bob. "Is anyone going to tell me what happened?"

Bob spoke up before anyone, but nothing relevant came out of his mouth. "Have you been crying?"

I turned to glare at him. "Yes, Bob. It's bloody half past three in the morning, and I was woke up to a panicked Randy banging down my door telling me you were at the hospital, right after having a nightmare that some greaser stabbed you to death in the park, I might add. I couldn't even remember your god damn name when I got here! I'm still half asleep, and I'm not sure if you've noticed how hysterical I am!"

I didn't mean to snap, but Bob didn't seem to care anyways. He must have been too hopped up on pain killers, because he statred giggling half way though my rant. "I did get stabbed by a greaser in the park, that was no dream. The dying part was a dream though."

I sighed again and turned to Randy. "What happened tonight?"

"We ran into your brother's friends." Randy muttered.

As if that answered anything. If anything, it raised more questions. Who initiated the fight? What was Dallas' part in this? Was Dallas with his friends during this encounter? Did Two-Bit have anything to do with this?

David seemed to notice that I was getting angrier by the second and was about speak up, but Bob started speaking, cutting David off. "She's mad." He said through supressed giggles.

Before I had time to throw a fit and possibly go off at Bob, David spoke up again, this time without being cut off. "I didn't join up with Bob and Randy until after the girls left, but from what I've gathered they left to go sit down to watch the movie, and ended up sitting near your brother and his friends. When we were leaving we saw the girls walking with some greasers, and you know how Bob and Randy get when they're drunk. Flash forward a few hours we found those greasers again, only this time there were only two of them at the park, and we _thought_ we knocked the one guy out, and were dunking the other kid in the fountain, and next thing I knew I looked over and saw Bob lying in a puddle of his own blood, and a greaser looking all shook up with a bloody blade in his hand. Needless to say, I booked it."

I nodded and calmed down noticeably now that I had a better understanding of what happened. I was still spooked, though. My best friend almost died, in the same way he died in my nightmare. If that wasn't reason to be spooked I don't know what is. I sat down in the chair beside Bob's bed and watched him play with a loose thread from the sheets. After a few minutes, I looked back over at David. "Two-Bit, Dallas, did they have anything to do with this?"

David moved his head from one side to the next a few times before shrugging. "Dallas was hitting on Cherry, and Two-Bit seemed to be getting along real well with Marcia. Randy and Two-Bit got in a bit of a yelling match and he did pull out a blade, but nothing happened."

I nodded again, and Bob decided to speak up. "I don't like Two-Bit. Really hate that guy. Can't really remember why, but I want him dead. It probably had something to do with you, Candie." Bob smiled brightly at me when tilted his head. "You're not wearing any makeup." When I gave him a confused look, he continued. "You always wear makeup. For as long as I've known you, you've never not worn makeup."

I gave him a look and shook my head. "Despite what you might think, my priorities aren't that fucked up. I don't wake up to 'Bob's in the hospital' and think 'I need to do my makeup'. Why would you-" I stopped quickly and shook my head. "Pain killers. Right. You're loaded."

"You look pretty without makeup. You should stop wearing makeup." Bob informed me, nodding fast.

I blushed slightly, but I wasn't sure why. It probably had something to do with not being use to getting compliments. I mean, I didn't like Bob and I can't think of any other reason why I'd blush. I was about to say something when a voice at the door.

"Oh Bob, sweety, are you okay?" I looked up to see Bob's mother, who looked as worried as I was when I found out he was in the hospital.

I quickly moved out of the seat I was sitting in so that she could sit down. She tried talking to Bob, asking him how he felt and what happened, but she quickly learned that he was stoned on pain killers. I told her what the doctor had told me, at least what I remembered of it, and she just nodded. "Well it was nice of you guys to keep Bob company. It was nice of the doctor to let you in even though you're not family."

The doctor looked up and all of the boys' faces fell. "Wait, Robert doesn't have any siblings?" the doctor asked.

Bob's mother looked like a dear caught in headlights, and Bob looked sad also. "I said guys," his mother explained. "He has a sister. Candie is his sister."

The doctor looked at David and Randy with his arms crossed. "I'm sorry boys. Visiting hours are over. I was willing to make an exception for family, but if you boys want to visit Robert you're just going to have to come back at ten."

Randy and David nodded, but before they left Randy turned to Bob's mom. "I'm probably going to stay here until visiting hours, so would you like me to get you something before I go to the waiting room?"

Bob's mother smiled but shook her head. "No thank you, Randy. But you should go home and get some rest. You've been through a lot tonight."

Randy nodded, but I knew he wasn't planning on leaving any time soon. The closest thing to following her advice he would do was maybe fall asleep in the waiting room.

There was another chair in the corner of the room (I guess in case Boo Radley was visiting someone in the hospital?) and I pulled it up to sit near Bob's mom. I told her everything that Randy had told me. Every last detail I could remember. I was thinking about lying a bit about the fight, but Bob wasn't kidding when he said his parents wouldn't get him in trouble for anything, so I didn't feel the need to leave it out. She just nodded throughout the story, and looked close to tears.

"From what I've gathered it was one of my brother's friends who did it, so I could try to get a name if you'd like." She nodded and seemed to appreciate it.

We sat there in silence for a few more minutes, since Bob had fallen asleep by now, before I decided to say something. "Thanks for lying to the doctor."

She shook her head grinning slightly. "It's no problem, Candie. I think Bob would appreciate it. He really cares about you, you know."

I nodded and sighed. "I just, I can't help but feel like this is my fault." I whispered, but she didn't hear me.

 **Pony'sgirlfriend: Glad you liked how I put Two-Bit in last chapter. I think I'm planning on putting him in more in future chapters. Not 100% sure, but if this story goes as planned you'll definitely have more Two-Bit to look forward to (:**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **I use the term 'suicide knob' in this chapter, so I felt like including a definiton for those of you who are unaware of what that is.**

 **Suicide knob- A knob people(mainly guys) tie to their steering wheel to make it easier to drive with one hand, so they can put their arm around their date while driving. Common in the sixties.**

 **Also, sorry for the late update. I had a lot of shit to do yesterday and a forgot to make the time to update this, so I'm posting it now. Sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, I didn't read over this chapter. I think it should be fine though.**

David woke me up at some point the next morning. I didn't remember falling asleep, but based on how I felt I hadn't been sleeping very long. Both David and Randy were here now, and Bob was already awake. Only now he didn't seem as hopped up on pain killers.

"Hey Bob. How're you feeling?" I asked him.

He gave me a half grin. "I'm tired. I feel feverish. I hurt." he chuckled slightly, so I knew he couldn't hurt to bad. "The doctors aren't giving me near as many pain meds. I don't think it's the same kind either. I think they switched me to codeine." Bob shrugged. "All I know is that there's pain in my chest that I don't remember last night."

"Well, you were stabbed." I yawned.

Bob shook his head at me. "Go home Candie. You need rest. I'm not going to die if you leave."

I shook my head quickly. "No. I'm staying here." I insisted. "I'm fine. _You're_ not."

David nodded. At first I thought he was agreeing with me, but no sooner had he spoke I realized he was agreeing with Bob. "C'mon, Candie. Bob's right. I'll drive you home. You can come back later, but you need some sleep." I pouted and didn't show any sign of moving, so David grabbed me by my wrists and literally dragged me out of the chair. "If anything happens you'll know about it the second it happens, I promise. But he's going to be fine."

I sighed, but left with David. As much as I hated to admit it, I really could use some sleep. As it was I was almost falling asleep in David's car. That is, until he spoke up. "You look like shit." he stated. I glared at him and was quick to open my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. "I meant emotionally. You're a wreck. I mean, you don't look that good physically either, but that's not my point."

"What is your point then?"

"My point is that you need to relax. Listen to music, read a book, whatever it is that will make you feel better. But don't come back to the hopital tonight." He told me. I must have looked hurt or something, because he quickly added "I don't mean you're not wanted there. I just mean that for your sake, you shouldn't be there. I understand that Bob could have died, but you're acting like he's still going to. Sure, he ain't well, but he's not going to die. I promise."

We were outside my house now. I saw one of Buck's cars in the drive way, so I figured Dallas was home. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him right now, but it seemed I had no other choice. I looked over at David and smile a bit. "Thanks, David."

I got out of the car and made my way to the front door. I tried to be as quiet as I could when I openned the door, so that maybe Dallas wouldn't hear me. I knew it was hopeless, but it was worth a shot anyways. I entered without being noticed, but I about half way to my room Dallas heard me.

"The hell were you? Do you even know what time it is?" he demanded. I ignored him, but checked the time on the stove as I walked by. 1:30pm. _Damn_ , I thought it was around noon.

I walked into my room and the first thing I did was brush my hair. Dallas followed me though, and continued demanding I told him where I was. "The hospital, Dallas." I mumbled, annoyed.

"It takes you that long to say good-bye?!"

I slammed my brush down and turned to give him a death glare. He didn't look smug and he wasn't smirking, his facial expression hadn't changed at all. So he wasn't trying to upset me, he's just obnoxiously and obliviously insensitive. I'm not sure why I expected anything otherwise. "Who did it?" It didn't come out as a question, though I was looking for an answer. He gave me a look as if to ask why he'd be stupid enough to tell me, so I followed up by telling him "I was at the hospital all night. I have something game changing, but I'm not telling you until you tell me who did it."

"What do you mean, game changing?" Dallas asked. "And why should I believe you?"

"It could literally save their life. I wouldn't lie about something like this."

We stood there, just staring at each other for a few minutes. Dallas' expresion never changed to indicate what he was thinking, or if he even was thinking, but I knew Dallas would tell me. As hard as Dallas liked to pretend he was, his friends were his one and only weakness. It had been that way for as long as I could remember. I've heard he use to put family first, but once our parents split that quickly changed. I'm not sure if that was the truth, though, or if Dad just told me that to make me not hate Dallas.

After what was probably about ten minutes, Dallas caved. "Johnny Cade."

"Bob's not dead."

"Wait, you mean he's-" I nodded. "So Johnny didn't-" I shook my head, grinning.

I'm not sure if I've ever actually seen Dallas this happy. It was clear he was trying to hide it, but any traces of hapiness stood out on Dallas face. He wasted no time leaving my room, and didn't say anything, but I knew exactly what he was doing. He didn't say anything until he saw me leaving the house. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm curious to see where you stashed him." Dallas gave me a confused look and I laughed. "What, do you think I'm stupid?"

On any other day Dallas would insist I stayed here, and that didn't leave the house while he was gone, but today I think he was just to happy to care. He unlocked the doors and a hopped in. Dallas wasn't really one for seat belts, so as soon as we got in we were off.

It was a quiet drive, but every once in a while Dallas would say something about how worried he was when it really sunk in that Johnny actually _killed someone_. Dallas wasn't usually a 'share your feelings' kind of guy, but he'd talked about Johnny before, and I knew Johnny meant a lot to Dallas. If Johnny had killed someone and was lucky enough to not get the electric chair, he'd still probably get 25 to life in prison. That thought probably scared the hell out of Dallas.

The drive was long, it would take between six and seven hours if Dallas wasn't speeding this much. The only reason I knew this was because I recognized the place from when I was younger.

Dallas and I moved to Tulsa with our father right after our parents split. Our mother stayed in New York, but she use to come down once a month to see us. She would wake us up really early and drive all the way over here so we could have a picnic. She told us that her grandfather owned the church, and that when he died no one took it over, so it became abbandoned. It was a shame, you could tell that the church would have looked real nice when it was in better condition.

When we got to the hill I made Dallas stop the car. He seemed confused at first, but I begged him to let us walk up the hill like we did when we were younger. He didn't seem as enthusiastic about it as I did, but he agreed to walk nonetheless.

It wasn't as fun as when we were kids. When we were younger we were just excited to be seeing Mom, so anything seemed fun. We'd race up the hill, Dallas usually beating me, and then we'd drink some water and look for a place to sit. This time there was no race, though. We were just walking. And though Dallas seemed real happy to be able to tell his friend he isn't a murderer, it didn't seem to fill him with the energy seeing Mom did.

Out of boredom I threw a rock at his head. He stopped to look at me and actually smiled a bit, before continuing. I was still bored, so naturally I threw another rock at him. This time he didn't stop or turn around, he just shook his head, so I threw another one. "Oh, that's it." I heard him say, and he picked up a rock and threw it at me.

I laughed as I dodged it, then threw one back at him. We continued throwing rocks at each other, and when I noticed Dallas had a hand full of rocks I grabbed a few off the ground and started running up the hill as fast as I could, trying to avoid being hit. He chased after me, and everyone once in a while I turned around to throw a rock at him. By the time we got to the top of the hill I was laughing and we were both out of breath. Dallas had two rocks left. He threw one of them at my head, and the other he threw through one of the windows of the church that wasn't borded up. A yelp was shortly followed, which caused Dallas to laugh.

I quietly jogged up to hide the the door, and Dallas just rolled his eyes. "Johnny, Ponyboy, come on out!" he yelled.

Two boys walked out of the church (without seeng me, I might add) looking confused. "What are you doing here, Dal?" One spoke up. "Johnny just killed the soc yesterday. There's no way the fuzz are through with lookin' for him already."

Dallas couldn't keep the smile of his face. It was a genuine smile, too. Not a smirk, not a half smile. It must have freaked the poor boys out. Dallas never smiles like this. "So get this-"

"Bob's not dead." I cut him off and grabbed their shoulders, shaking them a bit. I started laughing, because the one boy jumped, tripped, and fell, and the other one jumped and yelped.

"Who are you?" the boy who fell demanded, trying not to sound scared. "Dally, who is she?"

Dallas rolled his eyes and smirked. "This here is the youngest Winston in the family. Candie, meet Ponyboy and Johnny." Dallas motioned to each of them as he said their names.

I raised an eyebrow and looked at Ponyboy, the boy who fell. "Odd. From what I've heard about Johnny, I thought he'd have been the one who fell."

Johnny had made his way over to Dallas, and was being real quiet. I guess it wasn't that nice of me to scare him like that. I did know better, after all. From what Dallas had told me I knew he got scared easily, especially because of his home life.

"What do you mean Bob's not dead?" I directed my head to Ponyboy and tilted my head. "Johnny killed him. I saw the body, there was blood everywhere. Johnny got him in the heart." Ponyboy stood up, then something seemed to click in his head and he looked over at Dallas. "She's a Winston?"

"Yeah kid, I'm a Winston." Pony snapped his attention back to me. "And not by choice, trust me." I pulled a back of smokes out of my pocket and offered one to Ponyboy and Johnny, who both excepted greatfully, then put the pack back in my pocket. I didn't smoke that much, though I had smoked around half of the pack early this morning at the hospital.

"About Bob?" Pony reminded me, trying to get back on track.

"Oh, right!" I snapped out of my thoughts. "Johnny missed his heart. He lost a lot of blood. He was in a lot of pain. He was on a lot of pain killers. But he's stable. He's a bit feverish, though. And he won't be leaving the hospital too soon. But he's going to live." _David promised_ , I thought.

Ponyboy nodded and seemed content with my answer, but Johnny had a question. "H-how do you know all this?"

I directed my attention to Johnny, and that seemed to be when it regestered in my head that _this was the boy who almost killed Bob_. _This_ was the boy who stabbed Bob. _This_ boy is why I had been woken up at around three in the morning to find out my friend was in the hospital. And oddly enough, _this_ was the boy in my dream.

"I had a dream about you." I stated. "And in that dream you stabbed my best friend. The really scary part about that dream is when you wake up because another one of your friends is in your house almost having a panic attack because the same friend that died in your dream was currently in the hospital. Y'know, I didn't realize it wasn't still part of my dream until I was actually in his room. Though, in my defence, sitting in the front seat of a convertible going 85 miles seems very surreal when you're too caught up in your thoughts to actually be able to feal the wind. So does being so hysterical that you forget your best friends name."

The poor boy looked like he wished he could just disappear. The smile that was once on Dallas' face was replaced by an expression that was a mix between a glare and a pleading look as if to say 'don't ruin this day for me'. I sighed, and nodded slightly. "Look, kid, I'm sorry. You just ought to see where I'm coming from." The kid nodded, but still looked uncomfortable so I decided to try to lighten the mood. "But on the bright side, he's not dead, so you're not a murderer, so you're not going to get the electric chair."

"Wait," Pony started, looking like he was thinking. "You're friends with the socs?"

If this were a movie, I'd be looking directly in the camera with an unimpressed look. "I'm sorry kid, how old are you? 14? Yet you're in my geography class, so I was assuming you were smart." I kept the unimpressed look on my face and shook my head. "Yes, I'm friends with socs. Not _the_ socs, I'm not friends with all of them. I just have a mutual lack of hate with all of them. Now you know why Dallas never told you he had a sister."

Dallas mad a face at me, and was about to say something so I spoke up first. "Before you guys get too happy, though, Bob's parents are looking to press charges. So Johnny could potentially get a good few years. Unless you say it was self defence, which you guys might actually stand a chance at winning."

Johnny had calmed down for the most part now and was nodding, along with Pony. "Hey Dal, can we start heading back now? 'M getting kinda tired." Pony pleaded.

Dallas agreed, and Pony and Johnny started walking down the hill. Dallas, on the other hand, waited for me to walk by him before he started walking. "I didn't know you were friends with the socs when I met these guys. You know that."

I nodded. "Yup, I do know. I'm giving you an excuse that they'll understand, Dallas. I'm trying to not make you seem like an ass."

We were in the car driving back when I heard Pony talking to Johnny. "Think we'll be able to get Cherry to testify?"

I turned back to look at him. "Cherry Valance?" he nodded. "Oh yeah, she'll testify." I rolled my eyes. I use to really like Cherry before her and Bob started dating, but once they did it was like a switch in my head that flipped and suddenly I couldn't stand her. She as just always being so annoying an flirty, and she was contantly giggling. I think she tried to be cute but she sounded like a studdering hyena.

"I think she likes me." Dallas thought out loud.

I looked over at Dallas and without a trace of sarcasm I nodded and replied. "She probably does. You're definitely her type. She really digs the whole 'bad boy' thing you've got going for you."

I turned back to Pony and Johnny. I'd been meaning to ask them something since they came out of the church. "I've been meaning to ask, what'd you do that pissed them off so much that they decided to jump you?"

Pony laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Long story short? We were walking with Cherry and Marcia and were going to walk them home, but your friends saw us and thought we were flirting."

I made a confused face, then remembered what David had said and nodded. "How drunk were they?"

"Pretty drunk," Pony answered. "Why, do they drink a lot?"

I chuckled and nodded. "That's not why I asked, though. They broke up with Cherry and Marcia when they got to the drive in. That's why they left Bob and Randy. If they told you otherwise it's because they didn't want you to flirt with them."

"Well, they're socs." Johnny finally spoke again. "They probably just wanted to jump some greaser."

I shook my head. "Sheppard's kid brother has been annoying lately, they'd probably go after him."

"Or me." Dallas pointed out.

Pony and Johnny looked over at him, and so did I, only I looked mildly concerned. Dallas never took his eye off the road, though. "They didn't, did they?" I could almost guarentee they didn't, because unless Dallas started wearing makeup, there wasn't a bruise or cut on his face.

Dallas rolled his eyes. "No, they didn't come near me." he assured. "But they're probably real 'pissed' at me." he used air quotes as he said 'pissed' and shook his head. I ignored it, though.

"What'd you do, Dal?" Pony asked.

There was a long moment of silence. It wasn't really the awkward silence you read about in books, but it definitely wasn't comfortable. It was more like a heavy, smothering kind of silence. Dallas looked like he was about to say something a few times, but then he suddenly seemed to focus on the road more. I looked at him for probably a minute, before nodding to myself. "In his defence, I was kind of asking for it. He ran into me and some of my friends, I wasn't exactly in the friendliest mood. I basically told him that he was a bad brother, and that the socs were better than him, so he may or may not have slapped me. Or punched me." I still couldn't recall which it was was, so I turned to Dallas. "Did you slap me or punch me?"

Dallas turned and gave me an 'are you serious?' look. "I know you think poorly of me, but even I'm kinda surprised I hit you at all. Of course I didn't _punch_ you."

I thought about it and nodded. I probably would have known if he punched me, anyways. I turned back to Pony. "That's why they're mad. It's nothing really. I mean I guess it could potentially cause one small fight, but I doubt it."

Pony gave me a look. I'm really sure how to describe the look, but it kind of looked like a look of disbelief, and like he might have been calling me an idiot in his head. "My older brother, he hit me the night the soc was stabbed. That was the intitial incident that kind of started this whole mess." he told me. "I know how you feel. I mean, it's not really 'nothing'."

I shrugged. "Maybe not nothing to you, but it is to me. I don't have any expectations of Dallas. I mean, sure he's my brother and we live together, but we don't really have any kind of relationship. I make him food, we occasionally complain about things to each other. We don't have some 'unbreakable bond' or any other sibling cliché. We're more or less strangers. Aquaintences, I guess would be a more suitable term. We were real close before we moved to Tulsa, but then we kinda went our own ways. Back in like grade three this would have upset me, but something happened and I just stopped caring about him the same way."

Pony gave me a knowing look, as if he could see right through me whole act, but in all honestly there was no act. "You don't need to pretend to be all hard, Candie. I mean, I get it. And Johnny..." he trailed off. I knew what Johnny had been through, Dallas talked about him enough to have mentioned once of twice what his parents were like.

"Yeah, we're all team 'we've been hit by a family member'. Woopty-doo for us. Now can we drop it?" Dallas snapped.

I stared at Dallas in astonishment. How he could be so insensitive was beyond me. Especially about a topic I imagine Johnny was sensitive about. Maybe it was just some facade that he tries to keep up around his gang. That's what I was hoping. I really wanted to pretend that my brother was still kind of like the little kid he was in New York.

"I think we best ought to switch to a new topic." I smiled at Pony. "Tell me about your older brother."

"Darry? Well he use to be real nice. He really likes football, he's good at it, too. He was in the football team when he was in highschool. He got a scholarship and everything." Pony practically gushed. "But then our parents died in an auto-wreck, and he just kinda dropped everything to take care of me and my other brother." It didn't seem like we could talk about anything happy today. "Speaking of, do you and Dal have a guardian?"

It seemed like Dallas avoided the topic of family with his life. I looked over at him and he shook his head, so I turned back to Pony. "Well kid, it sure seems like you've managed to hit all of Dallas' least favorite topics today. Please tell me we're over there."

"We are." Dallas assured me, turning a corner. He continued driving for about fifteen seconds, then pulled the car up outside a house. "We're here now."

"Can I do a thing?" I asked excitedly. When Dallas only have me a weird look, I told everybody to stay in the car and I walked up to the door and knocked three times.

Even though I've lived in Tulsa since I was six, I never really picked up on the Southern accent people around here have. I still share the same New York accent Dallas has. But when some boy who looked to be around my age answered the door, I decided to try out my best Southern accent. "Howdy there, mister. Are you the boy I've seen putting the pictures of the lost puppy and pony 'round town?"

The boy looked tired. He just sighed and rubbed his face. "Do I know you?"

My face dropped at his lack of humor. I guess his brother ran away last night, and as far as he knows his friend is wanted for murder, but from what I've heard about him I still thought he'd at least crack a grin, if only for a second. "And I was told you were the happy-go-lucky one." I muttered, dropping the accent. "No, I'm a friend of Dallas." I told him quickly. "But hey, I uh, got a surprise for you."

I waved for everyone to get out of the car. Johnny, who basically hadn't said anything since the church was the first to get out. Soda smiled a bit, but when he saw Pony his face looked like it was going to break. "Hey Darry, get out here!" he yelled into the house.

I don't think I've ever seen anyone look as happy as they did, as would be expected. Darry wouldn't stop appologising profusely. I looked up at Dallas and nudged him. "You should be taking notes." I joked.

After a few minutes, Soda said something that I could actually offer input on. "What are you guys doing back here though? Johnny killed a soc, the police will be looking for ya'."

"You're lucky. Johnny isn't a murderer after all." When both Soda and Darry looked at me confused, I continued. "Bob ain't dead. Looks like there won't be any damage in the long run at all, actually. And he was completely loaded. I doubt he remembers much. So without Bob as a witness, if Johnny pulls the self-defence card, he should be fine. And even if he is found guilty, he won't be getting the chair."

Darry and Soda looked so relieved that they didn't even care how I knew that. "Who'd you say you were again?" Soda questioned.

"She's my kid sister." Dallas answered for me.

Darry, Soda, and I all gave Dallas a confused look. I must have looked more shocked than them, though. In the ten years of us living here, this was the first time he introduced me to anyone as his sister. I swear, it must just be that he was happy Johnny wouldn't be getting the electric chair.

"Well, do you guys want to come in?" Darry offered.

I shook my head. "I really ought to-"

"Why not?" Dallas spoke over me, practically shoving me inside.

Soda and Darry seemed to think the whole thing was surreal, and they wouldn't leave Pony or Johnny alone. It was almost as if they thought that they'd disappear the second they looked away. However, once Soda and Darry got use to the fact that Pony and Johnny were here to stay, they seemed to settle down a bit and everyone started to watch tv. Everyone except for Pony, that is. That kid wouldn't shut up. Not that I minded, he seemed pretty alright. To my surprise, we actually had a lot in common. We both liked reading, writing, watching sunsets, music, and some other things. Though it seemed that Pony wrote noticeably more than I do, and we did get in an argument over who was better, Elvis or the Beach Boys. I almost wished we were friends. Had the circumstances been different we probably would be.

We weren't there for too long, before Dallas and I decided to leave. After about a minute, Dallas broke the silence. "I see you and Pony had a lot in common. You guys could be real good friends."

I couldn't tell if that was a hit or a hint, so I chose to ignore it. "Be honest. Did you ever mention me?"

"I don't know wha-"

"Did you ever talk about me? At all? Clearly you never told them you had a sister, but did you talk about me at all? Even mention my name?" I cut him off.

He was silent for a minute, before answering. "No, I didn't." I was about to say something, but stopped and faced forwards. "Well it's not like you did either!" Dallas snapped. "It's not you talk about Dallas Winston, your _ideal_ brother!"

"Nope, I guess you're right. But you know, I do recall talking about Dallas Winston, my super cool, kickass brother. For the longest time, I'd talk about how I wanted to be like you." Now it was Dallas' turn to face forwards and not say anything. I sighed deeply. "But I don't know, I guess I gave up on that. On you." I laughed a bit. "You were my hero. And I- I don't even know what I did." Dallas sat up straight and cracked his neck, but aside from that nothing. He kept his eyes on the road. I didn't really expect anything else though.

"I'm going to stop by the hospital, by the way." I told him quietly.

Dallas rolled his eyes, but stopped the car in the middle of the road and got out. "Might as well take the car. Buck ain't expecting it back anytime soon."

I didn't bother getting out of the car, I just climbed over. I gave the steering wheel a weird look. "Why doesn't Buck have a suicide knob?" I asked Dallas.

"He's right handed. Like, violently right handed." Dallas answered. It still seemed weird to me. It definetly seemed like something Buck would have in his car, but I chose not to question it further. "Drop the car off at Buck's when you're done. " Dallas mumbled and walked off.

When I got to the hospital this time I didn't need to ask the girl at the front desk where Bob's room was. Somehow I managed to pay enough attention when the girl showed me the first time that I remembered where it was. When I got there David and Randy were still there, and his mother, who hadn't been there when I woke up, was now there again. None of them seemed to notice me, so I stood in the door silently, leaning against the frame. It was Bob who noticed me first, and smiled. "Hey there."

I smiled and Bob, then looked down at my shoes. "I uh, got the name of the kid that stabbed you." I looked back up and saw Bob's mom give me a hopeful look. Part of me almost didn't want to tell them. Somehow Dallas and I had been on okay terms today, even though just a few days prior he found out I was friends with the socs. Even if it was only because he was happy about Johnny, I still found it weird. The second I tell them Johnny's name, I'm probably throwing all of that away for good. Johnny almost killed my friend, though. I couldn't _not_ tell them. "Johnny Cade."

"How'd you find out?" Randy questioned.

"Dallas." I shrugged. "It probably would have been easy to find out, I mean, word ought to be out that a soc got stabbed, the kids' friends probably clued in. Dallas knew, he could have said something to someone. I figure news like this ought to travel fast."

David smirked. "Our little manipulative princess." As if he ignored the fact that it would have been easy to figure it out. It _was_ easy to figure out. No manipulation necessary.

"Dallas was real happy when he found out Bob wasn't dead. The kids skipped town, I went with Dallas to tell them Johnny didn't kill you." I grinned slightly, before quickly adding "They're pulling the self defence card, you know. They'll get away with it unless you've got enough witnesses. Who were sober enough to all remember the same story."

David was about to say something, but Bob's mother beat him to it. David just motioned to her when she started talking. "I've talked to a lawyer already. Randy, David, and another person have all agreed to be eye witnesses, and we're going to be going over their stories to make sure it all matches up. The lawyer said we might also need a character witness, and that it could be one of the eye witnesses, but it would be best if it wasn't, and-"

"She's trying to ask if you'd be a character witness." Bob summed up. "And hey, I totally understand if you don't want to be a part of this. It's your brother's friend so it will probably cause drama with him, and court is scary, but I mean who better for the job than you? Like I said though, we can find someone else."

I ran a hand through my hair and shrugged. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just- I mean do you really want a greaser as your character witness? People usually believe socs over greasers any day."

"That usually is the case, but if a greaser is saying a soc is right and the greasers are wrong, won't that look good for the socs?" David tried to explain.

I think in some way he had a point, though he did a terrible job at explaining it. "If you guys think it'll be a good idea. I'm fine to do it."

I stayed there for a bit longer, but when it started to get dark I decided I should drop the car off at Buck's and head home. Coincidentally Dallas was just walking up to the house at the same time I was. "So, how is your precious little soc?" _Ah, there was the Dallas I was use to._

I shrugged. "He's alive, so your precious little greaser still isn't a murderer." When we walked inside I stopped him. "I'm testifying," I paused and Dallas raised an eyebrow, almost looking impressed. "For Bob." I finished.

As soon as I was finished Dallas' expression changed drastically. "You're what?!"

"You didn't think I meant I'd be testifying for Johnny did you?" I half yelled in disbelief.

"Why not?" Dallas boomed.

"He almost killed my friend!" I shouted.

"Now children," came a voice. Dallas and I both jumped at the voice (though if you asked Dallas he'd deny it). "Play nice."

We both turned to see who the voice came from. I heard Dallas groan beside me, but I smiled. "Dad!"

 **A/N: This chapter isn't that good, I'm really sorry. Don't worry, it is not my intentions to have another chapter like this.**

 **I'm planning on making the chapter after next them in court. It might not be too long, and next chapter isn't going to be that long either because I think it's mostly just going to be showing Candie and Dallas' relationship with their father, plus Candie checking up on Bob in the hospital. It's not going to be that accurate because I myself have never been too court, and I don't want to spend a lot of time on it so there's only going to be one court date thing so it's not a prolonged thing.**

 **Review responses-**

 **Pony'sgirlfriend: I'm glad you liked the chapter. Bob is my favorite character to be honest, so I will probably never write a story where he dies. And I'm glad you liked the dream too. I'm really happy with how it turned out.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Omf I'm so sorry this is late. I just started school this week and I've been a little tired and overwhelmed and I completely forgot to upload. I have the next chapter all written out (it honestly is very good though) and I'm almost done the eighth chapter, but I think I might epdate biweekly, just so I can still have a regular updating schedule, and still have enough time to write out a chapter. Please, if you have any opinions on the matter feel free to leave them in a review.**

My first reaction was to run over and give my dad a big hug. I might be a teenager, but I don't think I would ever go through that phase most teenagers go through where they pretend they hate their parents. I didn't really see either of my parents too often, so I didn't really want to waste the time I did see them hating them. Dallas and I only really saw our mother on our birthdays and around Christmas, and we never knew when we'd see our dad. Our dad would often disappear for a week or two at a time, then he'd show back up like nothing happened.

I think Dallas had the same mindset when it comes to our mother. I don't think he wanted to waste the time he got to see her hating her. It was like he was a different person when she was around. He was always in a good mood when we were around her. It was clear he didn't feel this way about our father. Dallas didn't seem to like him at all, and he probably wished he'd just leave for good.

"What are you doing here?" Dallas asked, obviously irritated.

"Well, I do pay the bills, don't I?" Dad glared slightly, but then cracked a grin.

"Well it's not like we need you to." I scoffed at that. Dallas knew damn well he didn't have near enough money to pay for the bills.

"Well I'm glad you here." I spoke up, grinning. "You've been gone for going on three weeks now. Where've you been?"

"Places." He answered. "Maybe I'll tell you about it tomorrow." I nodded, but I knew this would be the last we'd talk about where he'd been until after next time he leaves. Every time I ask him where he's been, and he never tells me. I was real curious, though. He didn't make enough money to not go to work, and he didn't make enough money to pay to stay anywhere else either.

"I'm going to bed." Dallas announced, before walking to his room and slamming the door.

I sighed. "I think I'm going to call it a night, too. Lord knows I got next to no sleep last night, and I had a long day. But I'll see you tomorrow, right? You're still going to be here when I wake up?"

Dad gave me half a grin before nodding. "Don't worry, I'll be here. Promise."

I gave him one last hug, before retiring to my room.

 **..VvVvVvVvV..**

I checked the clock when I woke up and sighed. It was only quarter after six. I closed my eyes and tried to fall back to sleep, but with no success. After about half an hour I gave up and got out of bed.

When I got to the kitchen I saw Dad was already awake. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper. He didn't look up when I entered the room, but he must have heard me. "I made coffee."

I pulled a mug down from the cupboard and filled it up. "I think I'm going to make some pancakes, you want some?"

"If you're making them sure." he looked up from the paper long enough to smile, then went back to reading.

I made enough pancakes for Dallas too, even though he wasn't awake yet, and I left them in the pan and covered them up to keep them warm. I placed a plate in front of Dad with a fork and knife and placed my plate where I'd be sitting and pulled out the maple syrup. Once I sat down at the table, Dad put the paper down.

"So, where were you and your brother yesterday?" he questioned, pouring some maple syrup on his pancakes.

"Everywhere really." I told him between bites. "I was at the hospital early yesterday morning, then Dallas and I went to Windrexville, then stopped by one of his friend's places. After that I went back to the hospital, then pretty much came back here. I mean I had to drop the car I was using off first, but I didn't really go anywhere."

"So, Dallas finally let you hang around his friends?" Dad smirked.

I shook my head. "It was the situation. More of a spur of the moment kind of thing. It probably won't be happening again." I explained.

"Does it have anything to do with your little argument last night?"

I shrugged. "I guess kinda. Well, yeah it does." I shugged again.

I heard Dallas get up and walk into the kitchen. He seemed taken aback when he saw Dad. "Oh. You're still here."

"I made you some pancakes. There in the pan to keep warm. You're welcome to join us, but you don't have to." I offered.

Dallas walked over to the stove and put the pancakes on a plate before hesitantly sitting down at the table with us. He started eating silently, but when he was about half way done he decided to say something. "So, has Candie told you about her friends?"

"My gosh, Candie actually has _friends_?" he teased.

"She's friends with the socs." Dallas informed him. When Dad looked confused by the terminology, Dallas continued. "They're the rich bitches. The kind of people we hate. The kind of people who hate us."

Dad took a sip of his coffee and nodded. "Good for her." he said. Dallas made a face like he had just said the stupidest thing in the world, and Dad just shrugged. "She broke the system. Good for her." he paused, then looked at me with wide eyes. "Wait.. They're not hippies, are they?" he joked.

I rolled my eyes. "Far from it."

"To say the least." Dallas mumbled to himself.

I glared at Dallas, then turned to dad. "Hey, I'm going to go to the hospital today. You okay with that?"

Dad chuckled. "Why are you asking me that? You know I don't care. You're old enough to do whatever you want."

"Well, I just mean if you were going to be leaving-"

"I'm not leaving any time soon, Candie. Calm down. Like you said, I'd been gone for near three weeks. I'm going to stick around for a bit." Dad cut me off. I heard Dallas groan, but both Dad and I ignored him. "I can give you a drive if you want. What time will you be going?"

"I was thinking around one or two, if that works for you?"

Dad nodded, before putting his dishes in the sink. "Certainly does, I just have a few errands to run, then I'll be back."

I did the dishes from breakfast while Dallas continued eating. I could practically feel his glare buring into the back of my head, but I chose to ignore it. When Dallas was done eating he put his dishes beside the sink. He continued to stand there for a minute. "I wouldn't count on that drive." he told me, then left.

I sighed. I know Dad could be unreliable at times, but he wouldn't just offer to give me a drive then leave. Plus he had even said he planned on sticking around for a while. He would only say that if he meant it. Dallas knew that.

When I was done doing the dishes I went into my room to change. I would have turned on the radio, but I could already hear Dallas playing one of his Elvis records through the wall, so I figured I'd just listen to that. Though I wasn't a huge Elvis fan, I could tolerate him. Plus, if I'm being honest with myself, he does have some good songs. None were good enough that I could remember all the words, but some were catchy enough to get stuck in my head.

I changed into some jeans and a plain white t-shirt. I wasn't big on color, so most of the shirts I had were either white, grey, or black. I did have one or two pink shirts my mother had bought me for my birthday, but I didn't ever wear them. They were more just there to make my wardrobe look more typical.

I still had time to kill, so I ended up just lying down on my bed, listening to the music through the walls. There was much else to do. I'd alread read all the books I owned (with the exception of _Gone With The Wind_. I didn't have the attention span for that.) and was around half way through my third time reading _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , but I wasn't in the mood for that.

After a bit the music stopped, so I was assuming Dallas was changing the record. Only a few seconds later I heard another song start, though it was noticeably slower than the other songs. I threw something at the wall that sepparated our rooms. "Don't you be turning soft on me."

Right after I said that I heard the door open and Dad called out to let me know that he could drive me now. I got up and grabbed a hand-me-down leather jacket from Dallas on the way out of me room. I stopped by his room and gave him an 'are you serious?' look, and he just shrugged.

 _Wise men say, only fools rush in_  
 _But I can't help falling in love with you_

I rolled my eyes and quickly left. It was just some cheesy love song. I was surprised Dallas was even listening to it. He'd deny it if anyone ever confronted him about it. It had a nice sound to it, but Dallas was more into faster music.

It wasn't until we already left that Dad thought to ask me why I was going to the hospital. I briefly told him about the whole situation. How Johnny stabbed Bob and thought he killed him, so Dallas sent him to Windrexville and that was why Dallas and I were there. I complained a bit about Johnny, too.

"I mean, I understand that he thought the socs might have killed his friend, but that doesn't mean he should murder them first! And it's not like it was by mistake, he aimed for the heart, it was clear. The doctors even said so!"

Dad just shook his head and grinned a bit. "Pretend you're in his shoes, and the kid that was drowning was Bob."

"I'd have done the same thing." I mumbled. "I still hate him though. There's no way he's going to get away with this. I won't let him. It doesn't matter whether he claims it was self defence or not, you can't just go around killing people."

"Well no, but-"

"The kids gonna die. He is going to die." I stated. "And that's not a threat, it's fact. Bob and Randy and them have jumped the kid before for no reason other than that he's a greaser. Now he's a greaser that almost killed Bob, they're not gonna let that slide. They'll find an excuse."

We pulled up outside of the hospital, but I didn't get out. "What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

"Nothing." My voice was so emotionless it almost reminded me of Dallas. "I hate the kid. Part of me kinda hopes he does die. I'm just worried, for Dallas' sake. He really care about the kid, y'know? He's like the one person he actually cares about."

"I'm sure he cares about you." Dad started, though he didn't speak too confidently. "I _know_ he cares about your mother. He does care about people, he's just got a funny way of showing it."

"What a cliché." I rolled my eyes, but smiled none the less. "Well my friend's at the hospital, so I've got to go show him I care about him the normal way. I'll see you around, though."

I got out and shut the door, then waited for Dad to drive away before I went inside. As I was walking into Bob's room I bumped into his father.

"Sorry, sir." I mumbled. Unlike Bob's mother, his father definetley wasn't my biggest fan. I knew it had to do with the whole me being a greaser thing. When he realized I was here to stay he learned to tolerate me, but he still didn't like me much.

He looked at me confused, like he hadn't even noticed I bumped into him, but then he seemed to realize what I was apologizing for. "Oh, it's fine. I wasn't watching where I was going either."

He seemed stressed. Which was to be expected, since his son was in the hospital. But still, something about him seemed off. "You okay?"

He shrugged slightly. "It's just.." he sighed. "The kid that did this to him, he's just- I don't want to see him get away with this. I don't want a boy like that out there. But if he says it's self defence, I mean, he's going to get away with it. I just-"

"He's not going to get away with it, sir." I told him sternly. "And if he does, I'll make sure he stays away from Bob. I'll make sure his life's a living hell. That's a promise."

He smiled faintly, but I knew he wasn't convinced. He nodded his head at the door. "Bob's waiting for you." And with that he walked off.

When I got in there, I saw Randy, David, and some other boy in there already. Like yesterday, Bob was the first to notice me. He smiled and waved me in. "Hey, Sugar."

I made a sour face at the childhood nickname. When I was little, that's what they called me. It seemed like a suitable nickname, being named Candie and all, but I grew out of it. I swear between the Bob, Randy, and David they've managed to come up with the top ten cringe-worthy nicknames for me.

I must have still been making a face, because the boy laughed. Bob looked over at the boy, then back at me with a bright look on his face. "You guys don't know each other, do you? Candie, this is Christopher. Christopher, Candie."

"Please, call me Chris." he smiled, sticking a hand out for me to shake.

I smiled back. He sure was cute. "Well it's nice to meet you Chris. Please, call me Candie. Not _Princess_ , not _Sugar_ , not _Candie Cane_ , just Candie."

"I've heard about you, you know. And I'll think you'll be glad to hear that Princess hasn't caught on." I couldn't help but blush slightly. I felt like some stupid girl for it, but he's heard of me? He moved his head to make eye contact with me and smiled again. "Hey, all good things. Promise."

I grinned to myself and pulled up a chair to sit beside him. "I'm assuming you're the other eye witness? So were you guys going over your story?"

Randy nodded. "You want to hear it, to make sure it matches up with anything you're gonna say?"

I shook my head. "If anything you guys say contradicts what I say, I'll just smile pretty and lie." The boys laughed a bit at this, but Bob's seemed a bit more forced than the others. "Good golly, mister. I didn't know. Bob's such a sweet n' caring person, I've only ever seen him get cats out of trees and help lil ol' ladies cross the road. He really is my role model." I put on my best southern accent, smiling at Bob.

He rolled his eyes, but cracked a grin nonetheless. "Okay, but real talk." I said. "What would be better for me to wear to court, the sociest outfit I own, or a not-so-buttoned-up shirt with my tightest skinny jeans?" I was kidding, obviously. I'd wear the nicest clothes I had. I don't need it to be too obvious I was a greaser. I still thought the whole greaser thing put Bob at a disadvantage.

Apparently it wasn't obvious to Bob that I was joking, though. He looked at me with wide eyes, his expression was both shocked and something else I couldn't tell. "Candie!"

David howled with laughter, and I just looked at Bob like I didn't understand what he was upset about. "What? I didn't say I was going to sleep with everyone on the jury, I just asked if wearing less clothes would put us at an advantage." I shrugged nonchalantly.

Catching his breath, David shook his head and grinned. "This is why I like her. 'M glad we decided to keep her around." I grinned at David. We were quite alike, actually. I didn't think about it often, but he was just the sensible version of me. I don't think Bob would agree with the sensible part right now, though.

"You're supporting her on this?" He questioned, his voice getting higher at the end.

"It's make smiling pretty a lot more affective, y'know." I teased.

Chris smirked and looked me up and down. "I say go for it."

I raised an eyebrow and bit back a smile. I was about to say something witty back but Bob spoke up. "You're not serious. You can't be serious."

Randy just rolled his eyes. "Of course she's not serious. It's Candie. She doesn't know what serious means."

I didn't look away from Chris yet. Something compelled me to keep looking at him, it just felt comfortable. "Yeah Bob, cool it." I turned away from Chris and smiled at Bob. "I was only kidding, honest."

Chris looked over at the clock on the wall then gave us an appologetic grin. "I actually have to be going. But I'll see y'all around. I was a pleasure meeting you, Candie." I grinned at him as he left, then looked back over at the others.

"You can't like him." Bob stated. "He's like, three years older than you."

David chuckled. "Bob, _you're_ like three years older than her."

"I am not!" he snapped. "I'm only two years older than her."

Randy looked down and David looked over at me, and it was clear all three of us were fighting off the urge to laugh. "Well Bob, if you're so touchy on the subject, you're actually two years and eight months older than me. So I mean we could round that to the nearest year if you want, but that'd still be three."

"He's a bad influence on you, kid." Bob informed me, ignoring my comment.

"You really want to go on about bad influences? My brother is Dallas fucking Winston." I could hear Randy snickering beside me, but he continued looking down.

Bob rolled his eyes as soon and I said my brother's name. "That greaser doesn't have any influence on you. None of them do."

I half grinned at the way Bob said greaser. Not a happy grin, either. It wasn't necessarily an angry grin, though. I just didn't understand what the big deal was. I didn't understand why one word had to define who you are, and who your enimies are. Being friends mostly with socs did have an impact on me, and I definetly did preffer socs to greasers, but in my head I never understood why.

I didn't start grasping the concept of greasers and socs until I was in grade seven. Even then, the concept didn't mean too much to me. I only made note of it because it seemed to be something that mattered to Bob and Randy.

 _-Flashback-_

 _I was sitting in the back of the class with Bob and Randy. Now, before you say anything about thinking they were a grade ahead of me, the first year Bob and Randy were in the same class didn't prove to be good. They both failed grade five that year, making it the second time Bob failed the grade. Why the teachers thought it was a good idea to keep them in the same class together after that, I didn't know. But they never did fail a grade again._

 _As I was saying, I sat in the back of the class with Bob and Randy. They had gotten in a fight with some other kids at lunch, which ended up in Bob getting a busted lip and a bruise just under his eye, and Randy getting a long scratch in the side of his face. I hadn't seen the other boys, because they were immediatly hauled down to the office. Talk around the school said the were supsended for the rest of the week._

 _Bob played idly with his busted lip while our science teacher, Mr. Williams, went on about something none of us cared about. Randy went to rest the side of his head on his hands, but quickly realized it wasn't a good idea. "Ow," Randy winced. "My face hurts."_

 _"How do you think my lip feels." Bob shot back._

 _"Well then stop playing with it." Randy hissed._

 _Bob glared at Randy, but stopped playing with his lip. I grinned a bit, though Bob and Randy wouldn't have been able to see with the way I had my chin rested on my desk and my arms crossed in front of my face. Our teacher didn't have a seating arrangement, but for some reason he had this rule that people had to sit boy girl boy girl, so I sat in between Bob and Randy. I liked sitting between them because I never felt like I was left out of a conversation, and I had the best seat to watch them bicker._

 _"Stupid greaser." I heard Bob say to himself._

 _The smile quickly fell off my face. Every time any of my friends said that it made me feel small. I knew that I was a greaser. It hadn't been a happy realization to me. It wasn't that I cared that I was a greaser, it didn't really make a difference to me, but I knew that none of my friends liked greasers. Aside from Two-Bit, that is. But I don't see him all that often, and I'm not as close to him as I am to Bob for example. I had been friends with Bob and Randy since grade one; they were my oldest friends. But every time I heard that word it was just a reminder that we'd grow apart one day, all because of something as stupid as social status. I wanted to think that our friendship was stronger than that, but deep down I wasn't too sure._

 _"I don't understand why greaser has to have anything to do with it." I thought out loud._

 _"It's because I'm a soc and they're a greaser. We've been over this, Candie. Socs and greasers don't mix. They never will." Bob explained._

 _"But why?!" I whisper yelled. "I don't understand what's so important about 'social class'. That one little word decideds whether or not you'll even consider being friends with them. Whether or not you'll even give them a chance for you to not hate them! It's not like they're bad people or anything just because of one stupid-"_

 _The boy who sat in front of me turned around and cut me off. "Would you shut up, greaser!" When I shut up immidiately, he turned back around and continued taking notes._

 _"Wrong move." I heard a boy in the row in front of me, two seats over mumble. I knew him, he was one of Bob's friends. David, I think._

 _Bob made a face, as if he had just realized that_ I _was a stupid greaser. I knew then and there we would stop being friends. Bob said so himself, socs and greasers don't mix and they never will. I tried to shrink, willed myself to disappear. There was nothing I wanted more than to be anywhere else in that moment. I wasn't completely sure how Bob would react, but odds definetly were not in my favor._

 _I thought when David said "Wrong move." he was taunting me, but what I would learn was that he was actually warning the other boy. Bob looked like he was set to kill, and he picked his text book up and dropped in on his desk with a loud thud. I flinched slightly, and eveyone was looking at him. Everyone except for Randy and David, of course. The just continued on with what they were doing like they had expected it. Even Mr. Williams had stopped talking and had an impatient look on his face._

 _Bob's eyes were locked on the boy sitting in front of me, and that poor boy looked like he was about to crap his pants. "Don't you_ ever _call her that again, you hear?"_

 _I had a shocked look on my face. This wasn't what I was expecting at all. The boy in front of me didn't seem to expect that either. He quickly nodded at Bob, then turned back and pretended to be occupied with taking notes, even though the teacher was no longer speaking._

 _I stayed silent, not sure what to do. I was still shocked. Bob was a soc. I was a greaser. But he stood up for me, like he didn't care at all. David glanced over at me and rolled his eyes. "You didn't really expect anything else from him, did you?"_

 _I looked down, and eventually the teacher carried on. Bob didn't get in any trouble. I knew he wouldn't._

 _"Thanks." I whispered to Bob._

 _Bob just grinned at me, but to an extent he looked worried. "You know you ain't a greaser to me, right?"_

 _I nodded, but it wasn't until then I really knew._

 _-End of flashback-_

"It doesn't matter either way, Bob."I assured him. "I don't like 'im. Just think he's cute, is all. And nice."

We dropped the subject quickly, and started talking about other thing. The court date had been set, and it sure was soon. I didn't know how these things worked, but I thought it would take a week or two to get these thing arranged, then a month or so until the actual court date. But apparently Bob's mother knew how to work things out to get them done as soon as possible.

We didn't talk much about court, though. It wasn't really a fun topic. David and Randy joked around about how much the football team was going to suck, now that Bob obviously wouldn't be able to play this season. We talked about whatever movie they had gone to see the night Bob had been stabbed. Bob complained about how the doctors wouldn't let him drink, which I rolled my eyes at. Eventually I decided I should go, though. When I mentioned wanting to go home to see my dad it seemed to spark their interest, I'd talked about Dad before. I hadn't yet metnioned that he was back, though, but I told them I'd tell them about it tomorrow.

Just like when I was coming in, as I was leaving I bumped into someone. I mumbled an apology, but quickly found myself being engulfed in a huge hug. Confused, I hugged back. When the person finally let go and I saw who it was, I couldn't keep the smile off my face. "Izzy! Hey, when'd you get back?"

Izzy was Randy's kid sister. She was a year younger than me, though she didn't look it. Even though she was younger, she looked to be a year or two older than me.

"Hey kid. I thought you weren't coming back until next month?" Randy greeted.

As a birthday gift, Izzy got to spend the summer in England with her granparents. Even though school had already started, she wasn't supposed to be coming back until mid-October. Not that I was complaining, though. Izzy was one of the few soc girls that couldn't get on my nerves.

"I got home sick." She told Randy, before giving him a big hug, then David.

Bob sat up, but not without wincing a bit. He wasn't in near as much pain as he had been in the day before, but obviously he was still going to be hurting. He gave Izzy a sloppy grin. "C'mere. Just don't squeeze." Bob opened his arms and motioned for her to give him a hug.

Without even meaning to, I found myself glaring at Izzy a bit. I didn't know why, I mean, she was friends with Bob too. For longer than I'd been friends with him. She had every right to hug him. And I had no reason to be bothered by it.

David noticed me glaring at her, but fortunately he was the only one and he didn't call me out. I just faked a grin and started talking. "I was just leaving, Izzy. But I'll catch you later."

I started walking back to my house. It wasn't that far of a walk, really. It took about 40 minutes if you followed the roads, but there was a short cut through some trees that cut around half of that off. I enjoyed the walk through the trees. It was peaceful, and you never really had to worry about someone jumping out at you. Sure, there were more places for people to hide if they wanted to jump out at you, but you wouldn't find those kind of people in the woods. Those people would rather stick to alleys and abbandoned buildings.

Speaking of alleys, I was almost home and had just passed one. I couldn't have taken five steps past the alley when I felt a hand on my shoulder. My immidiate reaction was to smack the hand away, then turn to face the person. I relaxed for the most part when it was just Dallas.

"You got a death wish, kid?" he asked.

"I can take care of myself, Dallas. I'd have been fine. Besides, I'm almost home." I insisted.

I could practically hear him roll his eyes. I guess I did sound like your typical teenager, but I didn't care at that moment. "Well I was headed home anyways."

I huffed, but didn't protest. "You know he's still going to be there, right?"

I didn't look at him, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Dallas shove his fists in his pockets and shrug. He didn't say anything at first, he just kicked a rock down the side walk. "I've just got a funny feeling about him." he finally said.

I rolled my eyes. "You've made that obvious for as long as I can remember." I accused.

He shook his head. "No, he's different this time. And I don't know if it's good or bad."

We were already home. We walked up the steps to the front porch, but I stopped in front of the door and turned to face him. "Well, hope for the best." I told him, then openned the door and backed into the house with a grin on my face.

When I stepped inside the house I was greeted by the inviting scent of pizza. Dallas must have smelled it too, because he gave me a weird look. Walking into the house further, we saw Dad placing a large pizza down on the table, TV already on.

"I thought you guys would be coming home around now. It was pepperoni pizza that you guys like, right?" When neither Dallas or I said anything, and just continued looking confused, he continued. "I found some gore movie on TV that came out a year or two ago, too. _The Fat Black Pussycat,_ I think it's called. I've heard it doesn't have too much of a plot, just a lot of gore, but I'm assuming you guys don't mind." he smirked.

Dallas turned away from Dad to look at me. "I'm hoping for the best," he muttered. "But preparing for the worst."

Without hesitation, Dallas sat down on the couch and picked up a piece of pizza. That alone was enough to put a smile on my face. Even though he did choose to sit on the opposite end of the couch, he didn't complain about Dad still being here, he didn't leave to his room, and he didn't hesitate to eat and watch a movie with Dad.

I sat down between them, picked up a piece of pizza, and enjoyed the movie. Gore movies didn't bother me much, actually I rather enjoyed them. It was a shame there wasn't very many.

As much as I was enjoying myself, I couldn't help but to think back to what Dallas had said. Dad did seem different. He seemed happier. He seemed like he was putting in a conscious effort into spending time with us. But those were all good things, right? I didn't see what Dallas was all caught up on. Maybe Dad had changed for the better. It sure seemed that way.

I shook my head and sighed. Whatever it was, I was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Smiling to myself, I looked back up at the movie.

Just in time to watch someone's throat get slit.

 **Reply to Pony'sgirlfriend: Of course she's testifying for the socs! I mean Bob and Randy are her oldest friends, and Johnny tried to kill one of them. Even considering the situation, I'd do just whata Candie is doing. I also really hate Johnny though, so that's just me. Glad you liked last chapter, though, and I hope you liked this one (:**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Wow. So this is the court scene chapter. I've never been to court so I don't know anything about it, and I haven't been able to find too much about it online, either. The extent of my knowledge about court is that often times witnesses need to remain in the hall, so that what the other witnesses say won't affect what they say, and I know you weren't allowed to smoke in court, even in the sixties. My point is, don't plan on this being too accurate. I'd skip the whole court thing altogether if I didn't think it'd mess up the plot too much.**

 **I'm not too sure how this chapter is going to turn out. The last few chapters haven't been great, I know, and to be honest I think this chapter might be worse. As we speak, my intentions are to make an entire chapter just court, but I don't really know enough about court to be able to put that much detail into it. If by some means I manage to write enough to be able to call it a chapter, it will probably be shorter than the other chapters.**

 **I promise after this chapter it should get back to normal. I usually have everything planed two chapters in advance, and I can** _ **honestly**_ **say it gets better.**

 **Anyways, here's chapter seven.**

I glared at everything in general. All the clothes that had previously been in my dresser were now cluttered on my bed. I threw the doors of my closet open and began rummaging through it. How the hell should I know what to wear to court? Obviously my usual attire wouldn't be appropriate, but what was over-doing it? Not that I thought it was possible for me to over do it, but what crossed the line between bank accountant and character witness?

A nice dress was probably what I should have been wearing, but since I only had a bright summer dress and two tacky party dresses, I didn't think that would work. So instead, I'd wear a blouse and a skirt. I owned three blouses in total. Two were pink, one of those two was basically see-through, and I had one white that was made from a material that resembled silk. Clearly that was the one I went with, but now I had to find a skirt that matched it.

I wasn't really one to wear skirts, so I didn't own many. I knew I had more than I could find, though, because currently I could only find three. One of them was a pink poodle skirt that probably didn't fit me since it was a few years old, another one was a black pencil skirt, and the other was a blue, just past knee length skirt. The poodle skirt wasn't appropriate for obvious reasons, but the pencil skirt seemed like something a bank accountant would wear, but the blue skirt seemed too casual.

I walked out of my room, still wearing my PJ pants but had the blouse on already, and walked over to Dad who was watching TV in the living room. When I had told him about the court date he had offered to drive me, and since it was pretty far away I accepted. He looked over at me when I entered the room and made a face. "You're still looking for something to wear, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "I know it's a long shot, but are there any of Mom's old clothes here anywhere?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, kiddo."

I groaned and walked into my room, grabbing the two skirts I was torn between and walking back out to the living room. "Which should I wear?" I asked, sounding desperate. And let's be honest, you'd have to be pretty desperate to ask your dad what skirt to wear. The only reason I really was asking him was because I knew he'd been to court before.

He didn't even have to look for a second. "You'd look like a dork in the black one. So go with the blue."

I thanked him, before quickly running into my room and changing into the skirt and white thigh highs. Now that I had the outfit part all done, I just needed to struggle with my hair and makeup. The only problem was that I had no clue what to do with that either.

This was one of the many times I hated living with all boys. Obviously they wouldn't have much input when it came to hair or makeup.

I brushed my hair quickly, then thought about my options. A bit of a bump in the back was definetly an in look. So maybe I could do that, then put a bow in it to make it look nicer? The idea seemed good enough in my head, so I tried to do it as quick as possible. I teased the back of my hair, then put some of the un-teased hair on top so it didn't look bad, then grabbed a ribbon to tie like a bow as a hair band. I had to admit that when it was done it did look cute, but maybe a tad too greasy for court. I hit my head against my vanity as hard as I could.

"Dad!" I ripped the bow out of my hair and pouted at him when I saw him standing in my doorway.

"Just brush it out and wear it down like you normally would. It'll be fine."

I nodded, but stopped him before he left. "You wouldn't possibly have any makeup recommendations?" I knew the answer before I even asked, but it was worth a shot.

Sure enough, he went wide-eyed and made an 'I don't know' noise. I sighed, but nodded in thanks nonetheless. I was about to look through my makeup for ideas, when I heard Dallas speak up through the wall. "Think Twiggy meets Marilyn Monroe."

It didn't even cross my mind to wonder why Dallas had any input on the matter, instead I just thanked him through the wall and carried on.

I assumed he mean the more neutral aspect of each of their makeup(at least I hoped), so after I was done re-brushing my hair, I quickly put on my makeup. The makeup didn't really take long to do. I just put on some concealer, eyeliner, a bit of white and pink eyeshadow, and for the most part left my lips alone. I decided to skip out on mascara altogether.

I took a deep breath then looked in the mirror. I looked pretty okay. Even with the use of concealer you could still tell I had a few zits near my hairline, and I looked like I hadn't gotten much sleep. My roots badly needed to be touched up, as they were approaching an inch long. I had an awkward gap between my two front teeth that was big enough to be noticeable, but not big enough to look like those cute models you see in magazines. So no, I didn't look perfect, but I was content regardless.

When I stood up I adjusted my skirt and tucked my shirt in. I took one last quick look in the mirror and sighed. Not a content sigh, but not an irritated sigh either. I just felt awkward in this outfit. It didn't look right on me.

I walked out of my room a few seconds after Dallas walked out of his and ended up bumping into him. Instead of apologizing to him, I just stepped back and gave him a weird look. Dallas didn't usually put grease in his hair, but upon saying that his hair still looked cleaner than usual. He was wearing a white dress shirt, a dark grey blazer and a tie to match. He was still wearing jeans, though, which didn't really surprise me.

He rolled his eyes at me and continued on his way. "You ain't the only character witness under this roof."

That didn't do anything to change the confused expression on my face, though it did change the reason why it was there. Why on earth would anyone think it was a good idea to have Dallas Winston as a character witness? He seems like the worst person for the job. With what most people believed to be the longest criminal record in Tulsa, he seems like the least reliable person for a character witness. His attire didn't make him appear any more reliable, either.

"You need a drive, Dallas?" Dad offered.

Dallas looked slightly uncomforable at the offer, and shook his head. "No. I'm getting a ride with my buddy Two-Bit. I'm actually going to be leaving now to meet him." He didn't say goodbye, or even look over at us before he left.

I sat down on a chair and tapped my heal on the floor repeatedly. It wasn't that I was anxious about going to court, moreso I was anxious about the outcome. Dad must have noticed, because he decided to speak up. "Scared?"

I slowly stopped moving my leg and shook my head. "It's not that. I just still don't think it's a good idea for me to be the character witness. I still think they should have stacked up on soc witnesses, and that I should only be there for support. If they lose it's going to be because of me." I explained.

Dad shrugged a bit. "If it was a bad idea, their lawyer would have said something, right?" He smiled, then seemed to laugh a bit. "Did that other kid seriously want Dallas for a character witness? What was he thinking?" I laughed and nodded in agreement. "If your friend loses, it won't be your fault, because you're a way more reliable character witness than your brother."

We left a few minutes after that. I pulled out a pack of smokes I had tucked into the waistband of my skirt, and smoked one after another until we got there. Dad didn't say anything about it, though. He just cracked a window once I started my third.

I wasn't too sure how long it took to get there. It seemed to take no time at all, though by the time we got there I was about half way through my fifth cigarette. I didn't get out when the car stopped. Instead I just stared at the building. Even as I finished my smoke I didn't get out.

"Need me to walk you in?" Dad teased. I shook my head and got out, but turned to face him before I shut the door. I didn't need to say anything for him to know what I was thinking. "I'll be here when it's over, don't worry."

I nodded, then shut the door. Before I went into the building I stopped out side of it and tucked the pack of smokes into my thigh highs so they wouldn't be noticed. When I walked in there was an officer who asked whether or not I was a witness. Upon telling him I was the character witness for Bob, I was escorted to a bench outside the court room. While we were walking there he explained to me that I wasn't allowed to discuss anything related to the case at all, and it might be best if I didn't say anything.

When we got outside the courtroom I saw David, Randy, and Chris were all already there. We didn't exchange any words, though none of us seemed to mind. It wasn't much of an awkward silence, more so a comfortable and needed silence.

All of them looked pretty nervous. That was understandable, though, because technically they could walk out of here being charged with battery. I had nothing to worry about, though. I was only here to testify that Bob was a good person who was never violent without reason.

Still though, I tapped my heel anxiously as we sat there. David put his hand on my knee after a minute to stop me. "Calm down, Candie. You might not even need to testify."

I nodded. The lawyer even told me that I'd only need to testify if Johnny was able to pull off the self defence thing. He said that if Johnny made it seem like Bob was a violent by nature and started the fight, then I'd need to testify that Bob wasn't like that. That didn't make me feel any better, though. That just meant that if I had to testify, Johnny was close to winning, and if he did it would be because of me.

I got here about fifteen minutes early, so nothing had started yet. It seemed to take forever for those fifteen minutes to pass, though, so I wish I had have come last minute. I had been staring at the wall in front of me for the past five minutes, but it had seemed like I had been half an hour. Today was going to be a long day, I knew that.

I zoned out for a minute or two, but somewhere along the line Bob's father showed up because it was his voice that snapped me out of my thoughts. "Look, I know we don't always see eye to eye." he paused for a minute, which was fine with me. I found everything to be a bit overwhelming, so it took me a minute to realize the words he said made a sentence. "But I just wanted to thank you. For getting us the kid's name, testifying. I mean, it sure can't be fun for you being in a place with so many law enforcers." I chuckled a bit. I wasn't offended, I knew to expect this from him. "That's not what I meant, I just mean-" he sighed and shook his head.

"It's fine, sir. I understand what you mean. And to be honest with you, the law enforcement is making me a bit uncomfortable." I gave him a half grin. Not intentionally, it was just all I could pull off. Between the lack of sleep I got and the stress of the whole situation, I just didn't have the energy.

By the time the trial had started I felt like I had been there for hours. I was tired, anxious, and I just wanted to go home. I didn't show it much, though. I sat up straight and stared at the clock almost the entire time. I didn't tap my heel, twiddle my thumbs, play with my skirt, nothing. I just sat there silently, watching the clock.

Time always seemed to pass slower when you were looking at a clock. I always tried to avoid watching clocks at school, but here I wanted time to go by as slow as possible. The longer it took, the more time I would spend out here in the hall, instead of in there.

In the hall, on the other side of the door, was where all of the people testifying for Johnny sat. I knew all of them. There was Ponyboy, Cherry, and of course, Dallas. Every once in a while someone would be called into the court room and someone would come out. I zoned out again after a bit, but snapped back to reality when I heard someone say 'Winston'. I was relieved when I realized they were only calling Dallas, but I was very alert after that.

When Dallas came back out of the room his face was red and he looked confused. I badly wanted to ask him what happened, but I knew I wasn't allowed. I made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Some more time passed, and eventually I was the only person who hadn't gone in yet. As time went by I became more and more anxious, and it was starting to show. I had start tapping my heel, playing with my lip, and I was constantly re-adjusting my shirt. It was clear that I was starting to make David anxious, too, because eventually he grabbed both of my wrists and help them with one hand so I'd stop moving as much.

"I'm cold." I mumbled, mainly to myself. I wasn't really, I just felt like I might have been shaking a bit and I didn't want to seem more anxious than I already did.

David glanced over at me for a minute, before speaking. "Want my jacket?" I shook my head, but apparently I must have really seemed cold because David let go of my wrists so he could take his blazer off and drape it over my shoulders anyways. I looked over at Dallas and I could practically hear him scoffing at me.

After some time had passed, I heard my name get called. I froze up for a minute, before I realized I had to get up, whether I liked it or not. I handed David his blazer back and went to walk into the courtroom, but as I turned to walk away David grabbed my wrist.

"You'll be fine." he said with a smile.

That right there was enough to calm me down for a minute, but once I stepped into the courtroom I was feeling just as nervous as I was before. If I had to be here, Johnny had almost gotten away with this. If he _did_ get away with this, it would be my fault.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I was guided to the witness stand. There were a lot more people there than I had expected. I recognized Randy's parents with Izzy, David's parent's and his two younger brothers, and then obviously Bob and his parents on one side of the room. There were a few other people, I assumed some of them were relatives of Chris. On the other side of the room I noticed Darry, Soda, and Two-Bit, another boy who I didn't know, and a few adults. There weren't as many people on that side of the room, and for some reason I expected that. I didn't know why, but it just seemed to fit that there wouldn't be as many people here for the greaser.

"Please introduce yourself and and spell your last name for the record." I was instructed.

"I'm Candie Winston. W-I-N-S-T-O-N."

The judge looked down on me with a serious look on his face. "Any relation to Dallas Winston?"

I nodded. "He's my brother."

The judge didn't do anything to acknowledge what I had said, he just continued looking at me with the same serious look. "Do you know what it means to take an oath?"

Since I was under eighteen, I technically didn't _need_ to be sworn in. They didn't always swear in kids if they didn't think they understood what an oath was. "Well, if I take an oath I can't lie, but if I don't anything I say can only support what others have already said."

The judge nodded at someone who I assumed to be the bailiff, if that even was the proper term, and he walked over to me. "Put your right hand on the bible." I complied without hesitation. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do."

The guy, whatever he was called, nodded then went back to where he was standing. I resisted the urge to crack my neck or wrists, which was something I usually did when I was nervous, and just folded my hands in my lap. The judge was looking at me with the same, serious look, but it didn't seem as intense. "Is Candie your real name, or is it a nickname?"

"It's the name I was given at birth." I told him.

He nodded at me and continued. "How long have you known Robert?"

 _Robert_ sounded so strange. It almost threw me off enough that I forgot to answer. "Ten years, now."

"And how would you describe your relationship with him?" he asked.

"He's one of my best friends."

"And in the time you've known him, has Bob been in many fights?"

"No." _Well that was the biggest lie I've ever told._ The judge was about to ask another question when I spoke up. "May I correct that?" The judge looked at me with an intense, serious look for a minute before nodding. "What I meant to say was, he hasn't been in many fights that he's started." It was still a pretty big lie, but it was better.

"But he has been in fights?"

"Yes, Your Honour."

"How often would you say he innitiates a fight?"

I felt like I had just said he didn't start fights often, but I knew that giving the judge attitude wouldn't get me anywhere. "Not often."

"Is there anyone Robert is known to have more conflict with?"

"Greasers in general." I answered truthfully.

The judge had a slightly confused look on his face, and I was surprised none of the other people had used the term yet. "Explain."

"A greaser is someone who has less money than the average person." I explained to him.

The judge seemed to understand and nodded. "Why do you think this is?"

"Because he's a soc." I said simply. When the judge gave me the same look he had when I said greaser, I added "A soc is someone who has more money than the average person."

The judge nodded again. "And which word would be used to describe you?"

"I'm a greaser."

The judge fixed his glasses, and seemed to pause for half a second. "What makes you different from the rest of the greasers?"

It was the perfect movie moment, where someone would ask the girl a question that would make her think about what deeper underlying message there was to her life. That wasn't what happened, though. It wasn't the first time I had been asked that question, so it didn't have that much of an effect. I knew it was just luck that we became friends when we were still young and ignorant. If I met them even just a few years later they'd hate me.

I didn't tell the judge this, though. I debated trying to explain this to the judge, but I didn't think it was worth the effort. "I don't know." I lied. "I don't think I am, really. I just don't think Bob really cares enough about labels to hate someone soley for that reason."

I figured that answer looked better than the whole young and ignorant thing anyways.

The judge looked convinced, then got back on track asking questions that were more related to the case. "To the best of your knowledge, has Robert ever had any conflict with Jonathan in the past."

I shook my head. "Not to the best of my knowledge."

"Is there any reason why Robert might have wanted to pick a fight with Johnathan?"

"Not to the best of my knowledge."

"Has Robert been known to drink alcohol."

"No more than the average teenager."

The judge stopped and looked at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like most teenagers his age, he has gone to parties. I wouldn't say he drinks excessive amouts of alcohol whenever, but I can recall him drinking at the 'school's out' party at the beginning of the summer." I would have said Bob didn't drink at all, but I wasn't a great liar as it was. The judge seemed to be convinced, though, so I felt I was doing a good enough job.

The judge seemed content with the questions he had asked, and he directed his attention to Johnny's lawyer. "Do you have any questions for the witness at this time?"

The lawyer nodded, and proceeded to walk over to me. "Before this incident, did you know who Jonathan Cade was?"

I shook my head. "No."

"I find this hard to believe, seeing as your brother is such close friends with him."

"My brother likes to keep his family separate from his friends." I tried to keep the snide tone out of my voice, but I wasn't too sure if I succeeded.

"To the best of your knowledge, does Robert wear any rings?"

"Yes." I didn't understand why this was relevant, but even if I did, lying didn't seem like a smart idea. Odds were, Bob was wearing them today.

"Then there stands a reason it is possible he could have been the cause of the scar on Jonathan's face?"

He had to be kidding me. He was trying to say that Bob wearing rings was proof that he had previously gotten in a fight with Johnny? There were plenty of people in Tulsa who wore rings!

"No." I answered. I didn't answer quickly, though I obviously hadn't taken any time to think about what I was saying.

"No?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Well, theoretically yes, it is possible he did that. But Bo- _Robert_ isn't the kind of person to do that. Not unless Jonathan attacked him first. Anyone could have done that to him."

"So you're saying it's just a coincident that Jonathan has a scar that was clearly caused by a ring, and that Robert wears rings?"

"Yes."

"So you're saying these two have no history?"

"Yes."

"You're saying that a fight between these two boys got bad enough that someone almost lost their life, and that there were no prior events that could have made the fight personal?"

" _Yes._ " I couldn't help but keep the attitude out of my voice. First of all, this lawyer sounded like an idiot. He was making it sound like Johnny was set to kill Bob. And second of all, his questions were really starting to get on my nerves. I had made it clear that I didn't think Bob and Johnny had any past encounters. He had basically asked me the same question over and over.

The lawyer smirked, like he had just gotten me to say that Bob was secretly a murderer and he was planning on Johnny to be his next victim. "No further questions, Your Honour."

I kept my face as neutral as I could while I was being escourted out of the court room, but the second I exited it I made an irritated face. Dallas gave me a knowing look, which seemed weird coming from him. I'd expected a smirk, or a smug look. Randy was smirking at me, though, and David looked like he was preparing to say something sarcastic.

"See, wasn't that _fun_?" _I was right_.

I glared at David for a minute, but I ended up leaning against him. "Johnny's lawyer is an idiot." I mumbled. I heard David snicker, but he didn't say anything.

David didn't seem to mind me leaning on him, which was good because I was too tired to sit up straight. I stayed leaning against him until I heard something that sounded like a gavel. I sat up straight and waited for something. I didn't know what for, though. There was a bit of commotion coming from inside the courtroom, and then suddenly Bob came out.

I knew the fact that Bob came out of the witnesses' enterance wasn't a good sign, and it seemed so did everyone else. Everyone was looking at Bob, waiting for some indication as to what was was going on.

He didn't say anything for a minute, instead he just stood there, running a hand through his hair. I tried to convince myslef that everything was fine, and that Johnny was found guilty, but all my hopes were shattered when Bob turned around and angerly kicked the wall. "Innocent." he laughed, bitterly. "Johnny's innocent."

Dallas was the first to react, howling with laughter. Pony looked real happy, too, and Cherry was smiling slightly, but no one beat Dallas. I couldn't tell if he was about to cry or rob a gas station. I glared at him, but he didn't seem the least bit phased. Not that I expected him to be, though.

"What, are you upset that the judge could see past the money?" Dallas asked snidely.

I stood up quickly and he just laughed. I didn't know what I thought I could do to make Dallas shut up, but there was a part of me that was almost willing to do anything. "I swear to God, I will set you on fire."

David made a face at me, as if to tell me to stop acting like a child, and started to drag me away by my wrist. I tried to resist at first, because I really wanted to hurt Dallas, but eventually I gave in and started walking with him. I didn't know where Chris or Randy were, but Bob was walking with David and I. When we eventually got outside I took the pack of smokes out of my thigh highs and lit one.

Bob made a face at me. "You don't smoke."

I raised an eyebrow and offered him one. "Yes I do. You know that. I started when Randy did." I reminded him. "Grade seven, I think. I was thirteen."

Bob sighed and took one from me. "Thought you quit, though."

I shook my head and offered him a match, but he just pulled a lighter out of his pocket. "I just don't smoke as much."

I'd have offered David a cigarette too, but I knew he didn't smoke. He stood a few feet away from Bob and I giving us a disaproving look while we finished our smokes.

It was a nice day outside, though the breeze was a bit chilly. I liked it, it was refreshing, but every now and then I would shiver slightly. Bob seemed to pick up on that. "Want my jacket?"

I said no, but like David had early, Bob ignored my response and draped his blazer over my shoulders. I looked at Bob annoyed, but couldn't bring myself to give him the blazer back. The cool breeze was refreshing, but his blazer was warm and cozy, which I enjoyed just as much. So, instead of handing it back to him, I ended up putting it on properly. I would have felt bad about wearing it, except for Bob was waering long sleeves, where as my blouse had short sleeves.

We stood there talking about anything other than what had happened in court for a few minutes, until a familiar car pulled up. Even though Dad said he'd be here after, there was still a small doubt in my mind. He got out of the car and started to walk over to me, but I jogged over to him and gave him a hug before he was even able to completely step up on the curb.

"Who's jacket are you wearing?" he teased.

A cracked a grin and poked him in the middle of his chest. "That's none of your business."

He grinned back at me, but not even a second later his attention was directed over my shoulder. "You must be her father." I turned to find Bob standing only a foot behind me. "It's nice to meet you, sir. I'm Bob." he stuck his hand out for Dad to shake.

Dad was laughing, but shook his hand nonetheless. "You don't need to make a good impression on me, kid. Candie already adores you."

It never occured to me to be embarassed, or phased at all by what Dad had said. I just smirked at Bob like he'd said nothing. "Yeah, Bob. He's a greaser, you don't need to treat him with repsect." I joked.

"I'm David, by the way." David spoke up from behind us and waved. He was a lot more casual than Bob was, but by no means disrespectful or awkward.

Dad nodded at David. "So, how'd it go?"

You could feel the mood drop a bit after he said that, and he seemed to noticed. I decided to recap what happened in one word. "Innocent."

Dad looked offended by this. "Are you serious? That kid had _Dallas_ as his _character witness_! I thought that would be enough to make him automatically found guilty!"

I heard David start laughing behind me, and even Bob looked impressed. Dad didn't seem to understand what they found so ammusing, though. The offended expression on his face was quickly replaced by one of confusion. I didn't bother explaining it to him, though. I didn't think it mattered that much.

"Well, I got you something and maybe it will cheer you up." He said to me, openning the car door. He reached into the car to get whatever it was he got me, but it made a small noise when he picked it up.

What came out of the car was the most adorable little kitten I'd ever even seen. It was grey and white stripped, with a little bit of brown, and it was the perfect level of fluffiness where it didn't look like a little ball of fur, but it was still a bit poofy. When I took it from him it meowed quietly, then started purring.

"It's an early birthday gift." he explained. "In case I'm not here on your birthday, I figured I'd get it now."

I continued to pet the kitten and didn't even look up. "My birthday isn't for almost a month, though. It's not for three weeks." Bob started to pet the kitten, too, so I handed it to him so he and David could see it and so it wouldn't distract me too much.

Dad shrugged. "I'm not the most reliable person, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't get my daughter a gift for her sweet sixteen." he laughed a bit, but I knew he was half serious. There was no way he'd still be around in three weeks, he'd been here for over a week already, but it wasn't likely if he left before then that he'd be back by then.

"What are you going to name it?" David asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I grinned at the kitten and scratched under his chin. "Doc." I answered. I was slightly confused when everyone gave me a weird look. "Like Doc Holliday, y'know? I think I'll name this little guy after the most badass gunslinger there ever was, and that's a tie between Doc and Jesse James. But Jesse seems a little silly for a cat, don't ya' think?"

"So does Doc." Dad mumbled.

For the next little bit Dad talked to Bob and David. I was surprised at how respectful Bob had been throughout the whole conversation, what with Dad being some low class greaser. But throughout the whole conversation, both Bob and David treated my Dad as through he was equal to them.

Eventually though Bob and David said that they should go back into the courthouse to find the others. They said there goodbyes, then we parted ways. Bob and David back into the court house, Dad and I home.

 **A/N: Really shitty way to end this chapter, I know I'm sorry. I just finished it now, actually. I skipped the ending and moved onto chapter eight, telling myself I'd finish this after I finished chapter eight, but I just realized now that I hadn't yet done that.**

 **So either way, sorry it's so shitty, next chapter isn't** _ **too**_ **bad, I promise, and I think chapter nine is going to be just fine. I'm about half way through chapter nine, and so far it's not too bad. I'm pretty excited for chapter ten, I have most of it planned out and I think it's going to be good. But after that I don;t really have much planned, except for a chapter somewhere between chapter fifteen to chapter twenty. I think I have planned for this story to be around thirty chapters, so it's almost one third done. There is a possibility of a sequel, though.**

 **Anyways, onto review responces.**

 **Pony'sgirlfriend: Johhny is just annoying. Plus he killed Bob :c But I completely understand why you're mad at her. Probably everyone who reads this is mad at her. And sorry for not updating sooner, because of school I had to switch to updating biweekly in order to be able to keep a schedule and still have time to write the chapters. Depending on how much time I have though I might switch back to weekly updates in a month or two.**

 **Anonymous: Thanks for all your reviews! I'm not going to give anything away, but I'm just going to say I think you're onto something. I very vaguely have all of the main events in this story planned out, and you might be able to guess a few of them.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey guys, I'm gonna give you guys this update a day early. I'm not sure if I'll be able to post the next update on schedule, just a warning. Long story short, I had a knife in class and now my entire family is pissed off at me, calling me a disappointment, juvenile delinquent, stuff like that. So, I decided I'd post this while I still could. It's super long, like 9k words or something like that, so I hope it can hold you guys over for a while. Anyways, enjoy! As per usual, review replies are at the end of the chapter.**

Shortly after we got home, Dad went out.

I didn't think anything of it, I just carried on as I usually would. I wasn't in the best mood, obviously, but when Dallas came home he was on top of the world. And not sober, to say the least. It was one of the few times where he wasn't angry when he was drunk, though. Usually I found it entertaining when he was like this, it seemed like nothing could kill his good mood, but then I just found it obnoxious. I decided to go to bed early to get away from it.

But when I woke up, Dad still hadn't come home.

I'd be worried, but I was use to it. He'd been here for a week and a half, which was a bit longer than usual, so I guess it made sense that he'd leave. I should have clued in when he gave me Doc that he'd be leaving.

I turned my head to look at my clock. I had forgotten to set my alarm the night before, so I assumed it would be nine or ten in the morning, but when I checked it was only seven thirty. I weighed out the pros and cons of going to school in my head. I hadn't really gone to school that much so far this year. I wasn't sure if I'd even attended my last period class at all yet.

Sighing, I got out of bed.

I wasn't all that tired now anyways, so it wasn't like I would be able to fall back asleep. Still though, laying in bed all day doing nothing seemed more enjoyable than going to school. But I couldn't justify it, so there I was, getting ready to go to school.

I hadn't gotten around to putting any of my clothes back in my dresser, so they were all either still on my bed, or on the floor. Without paying much attention to what I grabbed, I picked up a pair of jeans and a shirt off the ground and quickly put them on. I didn't care what they were, it just felt nice to be wearing something other than a skirt and blouse. I made a mental note to avoid any situation where I had to dress like that again in the future.

I quickly ran a brush through my hair, then grabbed my backpack and quietly left my room. I didn't want to wake up Dallas and risk having to listen to him gloat about yesterday. I wanted to get to school on time, too.

After I put my jacket on and was about to leave, I felt something nudge my shin. I smiled a bit when I saw Doc. I bent over and picked him up, scratching his head a bit. "Hey buddy. I have to go to school now, but I'll see you after, okay?" Doc meowed and rubbed his head against my face. I smiled at him for a minute, before I put him down on the kitchen table, grabbed a few more things, then picked Doc back up and left.

Doc was easily entertained by bugs flying around and leaves blowing around in the wind. He occaisonally would paw at my face or bite my nose, but for the most part he just looked around. When we started getting closer to school though, I stopped and put him inside my backpack. There was more than enough room in it, seeing as I only had a math text book, so he would be fine. I didn't zip it up all the way until I got to school, so that he could still poke his head out of the bag to look around.

When I got to class, I noticed that Bob and David were already there, but Randy was running late. I sat down where Randy would usually sit, beside Bob, then turned to look at him. "Didn't think you'd show up today."

Bob shrugged. It was his first day back to school since he'd been stabbed. I knew the doctor said he could come back to school by now, but he had recommended that he wait another week. "I feel fine. 'M sick and tired of laying in bed all day doin' nothing." I nodded. I could understand that, it gets boring after a while.

Just a few seconds after the bell rang, indicating the class had started, Randy rushed into class. He gave me an irritated look, and I just nodded to the empty desk next to me. "Why are you late?" I asked him.

He rolled his eyes. "Long story short, Izzy."

I nodded and grinned. It seemed like Izzy had only two moods; grumpy and tired, or hyper. You never knew what to expect from her. Some morning she'd wake up with all the energy in the world, others you'd think she'd only gotten an hour of sleep all week. Neither were good moods to be in before school. She usually ended up late to class because either she was so hyper that everything seemed to distract her from what she was doing, or she was tired and moving the speed of a snail. I didn't envy that Randy had to live with her.

After attendance was taken, the teacher went on with some lecture. She'd ask questions and call on kids at random to answer, but I wasn't too worried. Nine times out of ten she didn't call on anyone in the back row, which was the exact opposite of any of my other teachers. She did end up calling on Bob though, and he looked completely lost. Aside from that though, everything was going smooth. I had my backpack unzipped just enough so I could pet Doc during class, and he seemed happy with how everything was going.

That was, until about half way through class.

At around the half way point, he meowed. It was quiet so the teacher didn't hear, but the kids around me were looking around, confused. Bob raised an eyebrow at me and I just tried to look innocent. But then Doc meowed again. It was louder this time, and the teacher stopped talking. I coughed to cover Doc's next meow, and took my hand out of my backpack so I could zip it up. Randy looked quite confused, but Bob and David looked entertained. Upon hearing Doc start meowing over and over I pretended to have a coughing fit. David snickered at me, but I tried to play it off nonetheless.

"I need to, uh, get a drink of water." I said between coughs, and left the class with my backpack.

I didn't stop walking until I got outside. I sat against the building in the grass, and took Doc out of my backpack. I should have known this would happen. As soon as I placed Doc down on the grass and ran a few feet away and went pee. I rolled my eyes. It was a good thing I hadn't just continued coughing over him.

A few minutes later I heard some people walk out of the school, chuckling. "Why'd you bring him to school?"

I looked over and saw David with a smirk on his face, and Bob and Randy behind him. Randy still looked confused, but Bob was grinning. "He looked really sad about me leaving, and he's really cute and cuddly." I pouted, petting Doc when he ran back over to me.

"Better question: why do you have a cat?" Randy finally spoke up.

"Her Dad." Bob told him.

Randy nodded, the confusion slowly leaving his face. "Right, you said he was back. How's he doing?"

I chuckled a bit and shrugged. "Took off again." Randy looked like he was about to apologize, but I grinned at him. "But I got a kitten out of it this time."

David sat down beside me, petting Doc, but Randy and Bob stayed standing. Bob leaned against a light post and watched Doc with a small grin on his face.

"I don't even know what my last period class is." I said out of nowhere, chuckling to myself. All three of them made a face like something was really funny. I didn't understand why though, it wasn't _that_ funny that I hadn't been to my last period class.

"Phys ed." Bob smirked. "Coed."

 _Are you fucking kidding me._ "And how do you know that?"

"We're in the same class." Bob stated nonchalantly.

I gave Bob a tired look. "Do I have every class with you three?"

David shook his head. "I don't have math with you guys, and Bob and Randy don't have band with us."

I gave Bob and Randy a weird look. "Why are you guys always in our band class, then?"

"We've got spares." Randy explained.

I rolled my eyes and played with Doc's paw. "You guys best be heading back inside. First period should be over in a few minutes." I grabbed a little baggy full of cat food out of the front pouch of my backpack then zipped it back up. "You mind putting my backpack in my locker?" I asked Bob. "You do still know my locker combo, right?"

Bob nodded. "Sure thing." I handed him my backpack and they headed back inside the school.

I continued to sit there and play with Doc for a bit longer, and I gave him some food, but then I decided to go for a walk. I picked Doc up and put him on my shoulder, as if he were a parrot, and he clung to me for his dear life. It was actually kind of cute, except for the stinging part.

After a while, I stopped noticing the pain from Doc's claws digging into me and I started to enjoy the walk a lot more. We walked around aimlessly, for the most part staying in greaser teritory. Eventually I came up with the idea to take Doc the the park, so I started to turn around.

About half way there I heard a voice. "Well now, who's this little guy on your shoulder?" I felt someone attempt to pick Doc up, but Doc just clung to me. Eventually the guy got Doc off, but not without a noticeable amount of pain in my shoulder.

I knew it was Two-Bit before I even turned around. When I looked at him he was holding Doc similar to how you would hold a baby. Doc pawed at Two-Bit's Mickey Mouse shirt, which caused Two-Bit to laugh under his breath. "I know you're a cat and it's your instinct to hunt mice, but you leave Mickey alone." Two-Bit joked, booping Doc's nose. Two-Bit looked away from Doc for a minute to look at me. "When'd you get him?"

I gave him a half grin. "My dad gave 'im to me yesterday. He was a birthday gift."

Two-Bit gave me a weird look, then directed his attention back to Doc. "I thought your birthday wasn't until next month?"

"Dad took off, again. He probably won't be here for my birthday." Two-Bit made a disappointed face, but didn't say anything. "You mad at me, Two?"

Two-Bit seemed to think about it for a second before looking back up at me. "About yesterday? No, not really. I'm not happy with you, but I mean, I'd have done the same thing, so I can't exactly be mad at ya'. 'Sides, Dal lied too." he looked like he was remembering something funny.

I smiled again. "What happened when Dallas was in there? When he came back out his face was all red and he looked confused."

"Your brother was confused when his criminal record was mentioned. He didn't think Bob's lawyer would be smart enough to look into him. Dal tried denying everything." I laughed a bit. That sure sounded like Dallas.

"I was actually just taking Doc to the park, if you wanted to tag along." I offered.

Two-Bit agreed, and we walked to the park. He carried Doc the whole way, and even once we got there he was reluctant to let him go. Doc seemed a bit sketched out by the new scenery. The rocks on the ground seemed to confuse him, the slides seemed to scare him, and he didn't know what to make of the squirrels running by. Two-Bit and I played with Doc at the park for a bit longer, and watched him chase around bugs, but eventually Two-Bit said he had to go. Something about meeting someone somewhere. So Doc and I left the park not that much after.

I couldn't think of anything else to do, plus Doc probably needed a drink, so I decided to head home. I didn't need to carry Doc, because as soon as he noticed me leaving he quickly ran up beside me. He weaved himself through my legs a few times, causing my to stumble, but he kept up with me the whole way home and never tried to chase anything.

As soon as we got inside, he ran over to his water dish. I looked over at the clock in the kitchen and was shocked to see how long it had been since I left school. It was half past one already. I shrugged it off, there was nothing I had to do today anyways.

My care free mood soon disappeared when I saw Dallas though. He walked over to me, and I expected him to either brag about what happened in court, or say something about Dad taking off again, but nothing came. He stood beside me for a few minutes, and I started to think he wasn't going to say anything at all. "Look kid, I don't want to see you at the rumble."

I made a confused face at him. "What?"

"Well I know girls don't usually fight in rumbles, but you have been full of surprises lately. I mean, girls don't usually hang around guys much, and greasers aren't usually friends with socs, and-"

"What rumble?" I cut him off.

Now it was Dallas' turn to look confused. "You mean you haven't heard?" I shook my head. "Damn, it was your guy that called the whole thing on. It's tonight, and you best not be there."

I nodded idly at Dallas. Bob had been in a few rumbles before, and he'd always told me. I figured Bob was probably keeping this from me on purpose, because he knew I'd object to the whole idea. Without thinking, I picked up Doc and left.

"I better not see you at the rumble, ya' hear?" Dallas called out.

I didn't know why I picked up Doc, since I was headed to school. I probably just meant for him to be an excuse as to why I wouldn't be staying for class. When I got to the school I headed to the football field. Since it wasn't too cold out yet, odds were that gym would be held outside.

I saw Bob immediately. He was arguing with the teacher, probably trying to say he was fine to participate in class. I walked over to them, and neither of them noticed me until I adressed Bob. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

The teacher turned and gave me a bitch face, which was pretty impressive, I had to admit. "So, you decided to actually stay for class, huh? Well you're late."

I tried to match his bitch face, but I knew I failed, so I just rolled my eyes and looked at him like he was an idiot. "The cat should be a good indication that I'm not actually staying." I turned back to Bob and put my bitch face back on. "Really, though. I can't even begin to explain to you how stupid you are."

"Candie-"

"You were stabbed!"

"You're not going." he told me, sternly.

I glared at him. "Well I'm not just going to sit on my ass and do nothing."

He shook his head. "Girls can't fight, I'm not letting you go. You might be able to defend yourself if someone were to jump you, but rumbles are different. I'm not letting you go."

I gave him the same idiotic expression I had given the teacher a few minutes ago. "I'm not going to fight, I'm going to make sure you don't get your ass killed!"

He sighed. "Candie, I'll be fine." I was about to argue, but Bob gave me a look that shut me up before I even started. "I mean it. It's no weapons, I'm not going to get killed."

I had still had the same expression on my face, and it didn't falter. "You were just stabbed. Even if there was no chance of weapons being there, you could still die. And just because you told the greasers no weapons doesn't mean none of your guys are going to bring them anyways."

"We've all agreed, no weapons." I heard David behind me. I turned to face him and frowned. "It'll be a fair fight, Princess. Everything will be fine. I promise."

I sighed in defeat and nodded. "You're not going." Bob reminded me.

I rolled my eyes and shrugged. "I'll hang around Randy's with Izzy, I guess. That way at least I'll know if you're okay or not afterwards." I stood there, idly tapping my lip for a minute, before looking around for Randy. "What's Izzy's last period?"

Randy made a thinking face, before answering. "Art with Mrs. Sketler."

"How much will your parents care if she leaves early?"

Randy shrugged. "Not much."

I nodded, then looked at Bob. "Check in with me after the rumble if you're not dead." I said, trying to look completely unconcerned.

I bumped into the coach, who had been standing there the whole time looking angry, as I walked away. I didn't bother mumbling an apology; it's not like he would have cared either way. I walked into the school and down to the arts hall. Our school had a lot of art classes going on at the same time, and I wasn't too sure which one Izzy was in. I stalked the hall, peeking into the rooms as I passed, until I saw Izzy.

I put Doc down in an empty, unlocked locker and walked over to her classroom. When I knocked on the door, Mrs. Sketler gave me an impatient look. I decided not to waste any time. "Isabelle Anderson is wanted down at the office."

The teacher nodded for Izzy to leave the classroom, and she did so happily. As we walked away, I picked Doc up out of the locker, and once we were out of hearing range, I spoke. "Meet me out front after school. I've got to drop Doc off at home, so I might be a bit late. But I don't really have anything to do tonight, so we're going to hang out."

Izzy frowned at me. "I can come with you to drop off Doc."

I laughed slightly and shook my head. "No you can't. Imagine the conniption fit your brother would have if he found out."

Izzy rolled her eyes. "Then don't tell him." She walked out of the school and kept walking without even waiting for me. I watched her for a few seconds before giving in.

"Wrong way." I told her, walking in a different direction.

Izzy stood out a lot on my side of town, but that was only to be expected. She looked so clean and proper. We didn't look like we should be friends, to say the least. I was wearing worn out jeans that had tear on one of the knees, a hand-me-down grey shirt from Dallas that fit me awkwardly, and a hand-me-down leather jacket from Dallas that was too big. Izzy, on the other hand, was wearing a knee length, plaid skirt, with a sweater vest and white dress shirt to match. She seemed like everything was normal, though. She had her usual happy-go-lucky attitude, and she didn't seem the slightest bit intimidated by the neighborhood. She just seemed intrigued by everything.

When we got to my place I put Doc down, and Izzy looked around. "Where's your room? I want to see it." I pointed it out to her, knowing she wouldn't leave me alone until I did. Dallas walked out of his room as Izzy walked past. "Hi Dallas." She said dismissively.

Dallas gave her a weird look, then me one. "Who's that?" he asked.

I shrugged. "A friend, her name's Izzy."

Dallas still looked a bit confused. "What's a soc doin' here?"

"She's an interesting character." I explained. Dallas nodded, then walked into the kitchen. I followed him and watched as he rummaged through the cupboards.

"The socs aren't bring weapons." I informed him.

"Oh yeah?" he didn't stop to look at me, he just kept looking through the cupboards. "Who said that?"

Dallas seemed to find what he was looking for, and pulled down a box of cereal. "Bob. I mean, he knows for sure."

"And why should I believe that?" Dallas still didn't look at me, instead he searched for a bowl.

"Bob doesn't have any reason to lie to me."

I grabbed a spoon and handed it to Dallas once he found a bowl. Finally, Dallas looked at me. "I mean why should I believe you." he corrected.

I rolled my eyes. Of course that was what he meant. "Despite what you may think, I don't want you dead. You're the only family I can count on."

Dallas stopped what he was doing for a second and looked kind of sad. He smiled slightly at me and nodded. "Thanks, kid. I'll be sure to let the others know." He walked over to the fridge and pulled out the milk. I stopped him before he could pour it into the bowl, though.

"Do you want me to make you something to eat?" I offered.

Dallas was about to say something when Izzy's voice cut him off. "We should trade clothes some time, Candie." she walked out of my room holding up a pair of jeans. "These would look adorable on me."

Dallas gave me a look that was a mix between confusion and concern. "No, you go before she becomes a born again greaser." I chuckled and nodded.

"I'm going to hang out at Izzy's, but I'll be back some time after the rumble." I told Izzy that we were going and I was about to leave, but Dallas threw packing tape at me.

"Your shirt is covered in cat hair."

I cut a large-ish piece of tape off to use to get the cat hair off my shirt and turned to Dallas before I left. "Promise me you'll be careful."

Dallas rolled his eyes and shooed me out of the house.

The walk to Izzy's took just under an hour. I had managed to get all the cat hair off my shirt and tossed the tape on the ground. Izzy seemed to be going on and on about something, but every time I finally started to understand what she was talking about, she switched the subject. It was like this for the whole walk, so I was glad when we finally got to her place.

When we walked in, her mother walked over to greet us with a big smile. Mrs. Anderson was one of the nicest people I knew. Never once had I felt unwelcome around her. Technically I'd never felt uncomfortable around Mr. Anderson either, but I also had never been around him for more than five minutes at a time. He was very busy, and even when he wasn't at work he was usually on the phone discussing work related things.

"Hi girls." She greeted. "Candie, hi, how are you? You haven't been over in a little while."

"Hi Mrs. Anderson. I'm fine, how have you been?"

"I've been fine." She smiled politely. "Do either of you know where Randy is?"

Izzy was about to answer, but I beat her to it. "Oh, he's out with Bob. Said it was boys only and I couldn't tag along, so I thought Izzy and I could have a girls night until they got back. That is, if it's okay with you."

"Of course it is!" she beemed. "Why don't you girls go hang out in Izzy's room, and I'll bake you guys some cookies."

Izzy practically dragged me to her room, complaining the whole way there that I wasn't going fast enough. Though she was fifteen, she often acted like she was only eight. Everything seemed to excite her, and she had way too much energy for her own good. Just being around her could be exhausting just being around her.

When we got to her room, I was a bit surprised. I hadn't been in Izzy's room in probably around a year now, and I had forgotten how big it was. It was about the size of my living room, a bit bigger if I thought about it. The last time I was in here she had a canopy above her bed, but that was no longer there. There was also a book shelf that I didn't remember being there before with quite a few books. The bottom shelf only had records, though, and there was a record player on a stand beside her bed. There was a Beatles poster by her bed, and a Marilyn Monroe poster on her door. She also had a walk in closet, but it wasn't as big as some walk in closets I'd seen. Behind the clothes she had hanging in her closet, I could just barely make out a James Dean poster on one of the walls.

"You like James Dean?" I asked her.

"It's a guilty pleasure." she admitted.

I walked over to the book shelf and looked through her records. Izzy had always been the kind of person who loved listening to music. Her record collection had gotten significantly larger since the last time I looked at it though, so I was interested to see what new stuff she had. There was a lot of rock bands, but usually no more than one or two records per band. I swore she had every Elvis record ever made, though. She could give Dallas a run for his money.

"I've really started to like Elvis lately." she said, as though she could read my mind.

"You don't say." I looked up at her and chuckled. "We really ought to switch lives. You're greasier than me."

"I wouldn't know." she looked over my shoulder at the record I was currently holding, before taking it right out of my hands and playing it. "I've never actually met a greaser, y'know?"

I gave her a dumb look and motioned to myself. She faked a scared face and whispered: "I can't be caught calling you a _greaser_." She giggled. "Bob would freak. Speaking of Bob, what happened to him? Randy doesn't want me to know."

"He got stabbed." I shrugged.

Izzy gave me an annoyed look. "Well obviously I know that much."

I sighed and shrugged again. "I wasn't there, but this is what I gathered." I told her how I knew my brother and a few of his friends went, and how Bob and Randy had went there with Cherry and Marcia, and I tried to piece together the rest.

Basically what I told her was that I assumed Cherry and Marcia had left after Bob and Randy broke up with them, and ended up sitting near where my brother and his friends were. Knowing Dallas, he probably hit on one of them (Cherry seemed to be more his type), then got angry about being rejected and stormed off. I wasn't sure what happened after that; no one had said anything about that part. I'm assuming Bob and Randy just watched the movie and drank. Somewhere along the line David showed up. Then next thing I knew was what happened in my dream. Bob, David, Randy and Chris were kicking the shit out of Johnny, and they were dunking Pony in the fountain, then Johnny got up and stabbed him. Izzy was nodding idly throughout the story, and only spoke up when I finished.

"So let me get this straight; Bob and Randy asked Marcia and Cherry on a double date to dump them?"

We both started laughing and there was a silent knock on Izzy's door. Mrs. Anderson walked in with a plate of cookies and smiled at us. "Are you girls having fun?"

Izzy and I both nodded and picked up a cookie. Before I ate the cookie, though, I gave Mrs. Anderson a very serious look. "I promise I didn't do this to her." I motioned to the record player that was currently playing rock music, and the James Dean poster.

Mrs. Anderson laughed slightly and waved it off. "I went through a similar phase when I was a child." she smiled. "If you girls want anything else, feel free to come get me. Or tell the maid to get me for you."

I turned to Izzy after she left. "I thought maids only cleaned." Izzy made a face as if to say 'don't ask me'.

A song that I didn't know was playing in the background, but the lyrics seemed to be about a fight. It made me stop to think for a minute about the rumble. I didn't feel right about it. It wasn't the same feeling I got the night Bob got stabbed, but it still wasn't a good feeling. There were so many things I was worried about that I didn't know what worried me most. Bob had just been stabbed not that long ago, and now he was going to be fighting; it was obvious why I was worried there. I was a little bit worried about everyone I knew getting hurt, though I honestly didn't give a flying fuck about the others. I knew Dallas was mad about what happened with Pony and Johnny, and he wasn't always great at controling his anger. Part of me was worried that Dallas would put my friends in a hospital, but another part of me was worried that Dallas might end up killing Bob. I knew that wasn't likely, but it was possible.

Izzy seemed to notice that I zoned out and looked concerned, so I decided to tell her a little story. "Last time Dallas and I went up to New York there was a rumble. Mom was supposed to have us for a month in the summer two years ago, and when we went got to her place Dallas seemed to find our old friends right away. We'd kind of kept in touch with them over the years, but we hadn't heard from them in probably around four years. But I mean, they were happy to see us so it didn't really matter."

I smiled a bit, thinking about the whole situation. Thinking back it was actually kind of funny. It wasn't at the time though. "We were catching up, and Dallas just kept telling them lie after lie about me, making me seem like some real badass chick and all. I played along with him, our friends all seemed pretty impressed. But then whatdya know, two days later we're informed there was going to be a rumble at the end of the week." I chuckled to myself. "They wanted me to fight. I can't fight to save my life, quite literally. But after all the shit Dallas had said I couldn't tell them that, so instead I was like 'Sure, I'll be there. It'll be fun.'"

I laughed and shook my head. Izzy looked at me, waiting for me to continue. "And?"

"Like I told you, I can't fight to save my life. Dallas had to beat some guy off of me and we just barely managed to slip away mid-fight. Mom lost her shit, and when I wouldn't go to the hospital she sent Dallas and I home early."

Izzy rolled her eyes, but she was smirking. "What was New York like?"

I thought about it for a minute. I hadn't been to New York since then, and before that it had been four or five years. Dallas and I use to go down for most of the summer. Our mother didn't live in the same place we did when I was six, though. After her and Dad broke up she got together for some middle class guy. They lived more on the outskirts of town, but Dallas and I would always take a bus to our old neighborhood to catch up with some of our friends.

"It really depends on what part of New York you're in, I guess. It's got a real different vibe than Tulsa, though. If Tulsa was a house cat, New York would be a lion or a tigger or something." I tried to explain. "It feels more like home than here, though. I feel kinda couped up here. Always have."

Izzy nodded and seemed really interested. "But hey, you just got back from England, man. What was it like up there?"

She perked up a bit, looking more awake than she had seconds before. "It was great! It was real different from here, though. Even the houses seemed to look different. But it was nice. The people there were all nice, the accents were nice. The slang was confusing, though. I never really knew what people were talking about." I chuckled. Leave it to Izzy to complain about the slang in England. "Did I miss any good gossip here while I was gone?"

I thought for a second before shaking my head. "Not really. The only thing notable was that Bob and Randy broke up with Cherry and Marcia, but I already told you that."

"That's all?" she didn't seem convinced, but when I told her nothing else happened she dropped it.

The evening carried on like this for the rest of the evening. Izzy and I would talk about something that happened over the summer, we did each other's hair (Izzy did a terrible job with my hair, though, so we put it back to normal), ate cookies and other treats. It was like a normal slumber party. Neither of us said anything about the rumble, though it was obvious that we were avoiding the subject.

When Izzy started talking again, I was sure she wasn't going to say something about the rumble, but I was not-so-pleasantly surprised. "Okay. I was considering not saying anything, but I've got to ask. What's up with you and Bob?"

I gave her a very confused look. "What do you mean what's up with me and Bob?"

"I mean did something happen between you guys or what?" She had comepletely stopped what she was doing and now had all of her attention directed at me.

I fidgetted a bit where I was sitting. Izzy almost never had _all_ of her attention directed at one thing. "Nothing happened between us. There's nothing up with us."

"There can't be nothing." she pried. "You wouldn't be here if there wasn't."

I gave her an irritated look. "He was just stabbed, Izzy. And now he's fighting in a rumble like the idiot he is. I'm worried about him."

"Well you were glaring daggers at me when I hugged him in the hospital." she pointed out. I didn't say anything, because she was telling the truth. That didn't mean there was anything going on between us. "And you seem real happy when you talk about how Bob broke up with Cherry."

I glared slightly at Izzy. "There's nothing going on between us."

"But you do like him, right?" she questioned, smirking.

I heard some hooting and hollering coming from outside at just the right time. Instead of answering Izzy, I got up and looked out her window. Sure enough, there were three figures in the middle of the street, two obviously drunk. Even though it was clear that it was Bob, David and Randy, neither Izzy or I left her room until we were sure it was. As soon as I could make out their faces, I quickly left the room and ran down the stairs, followed by Izzy. Bob and Randy were already inside by the time I got down stairs, though, and David was standing just outside the door. As soon as I reached Bob he picked me up and spun me around in a circle, laughing. Randy pulled Izzy into a hug, and David just watched all of us, looking quite amused.

"Guess who won?" David asked.

Izzy looked super happy, and hugged Randy back then ran over to hug David, but I was more concerned about the blood on Bob's shirt. "You're bleeding."

Bob made a face as if he hadn't noticed. "Huh. Would you look at that, I am."

"And you've been drinking. The doctor told you that you shouldn't be drinking for a little while." I said very matter-of-factly, poking at his shirt around where the blood was.

I went to unbutton Bob's shirt to get a better look at the wound, but he quickly grabbed my wrists. "At least buy me dinner first." he joked. I glared at him and tried to pull my wrist away, but to no avail. "Candie I'm fine. I probably just pulled a stitch or two." I went to protest, but Bob cut me off. "I'll go home and take it easy. _I won't drink_. I'll be _fine._ You go check up on your brother."

I sighed in defeat. "At least let me take a look before I go." I mumbled.

" _No_." Bob gave me a serious look.

Randy was obviously more drunk than Bob. Bob could at least act like he hadn't had anything to drink, whereas Randy had to lean against the wall so that he didn't lose his balance. From his spot by the door, he started laughing. "You just want to get him shirtless."

I looked between Bob and Randy with a helpless expression, before turning to David. He hadn't moved since I last saw him, so he was still standing just outside the front door. "Don't make me leave." I half begged.

"I'll watch after them." he shrugged nonchalantly. I gave him a look as if he had bretrayed me, which I kind of felt like he did. "I can give you a drive if you like. I'm a hundred percent sober, promise."

I trusted that David would be sober, he didn't drink really. Still, I didn't want a drive. I'd rather he stay and make sure Bob and Randy didn't die. "It's fine, I like the walk."

David nodded, and moved out of the doorway so I could leave, but as I started to walk away Bob pulled me back and hugged me from behind. I don't know why, but I couldn't help but blush a bit. David was smirking, like I knew he would, and I wanted to smack him. It didn't help when Bob rested his chin on my shoulder and assured me once again that he'd be fine. "You ought to stop worrying about me so much, kid."

I could smell the alcohol on his breath, and that sure didn't do anything to make me stop worrying. "If I don't, who will?" Once I was sure I wasn't blushing anymore, I turned my head to look at him as best I could. "If you die, I'll kill ya', you hear?"

Bob smirked slightly, and moved his head so it was easier for me to look at him. "You're blushing."

I tried to ignore his comment to prevent myself from blushing even more. "Don't die." I told him, then left.

The walk was significantly shorter without Izzy. When I was walking with Izzy we talked a lot, which slowed us down, plus she got distracted by everything. But the walk seemed to take half the time it took when I was with Izzy.

I walked down the middle of the street, still on soc territory. I found it funny that I felt safer on this side of town than I did on my own side. A lot of the socs knew who I was, and though they didn't like me they left me alone. There had been a few incidents where Bob, Randy, or David had gone off on people who had teased me, but that had only happened a few times. Most of the people only knew me because I was always seen with Bob, who everyone knew since he was on the football team. Even the socs who didn't know me weren't likely going to do anything other than pull up beside me and call me names.

There was something about my side of town that always made me feel unsafe, though. More people on my side of town carried weapons on them, and more people got into fights. Not to mention there were more cops on my side of town, which didn't make me feel to great. A lot of the cops knew Dallas, and in turn me, and they always seemed to be out to get Dallas. They didn't seem to have high expectations of me either, seeing as I was Dallas' sister. They always thought I was up to no good.

As I got closer too my house, I noticed a figure stumbling through the street. I assumed it was either some random drunk greaser, or someone who had been in the rumble. Regardless, I thought it would be better to try to avoid them. That was, until I got a better look at who it was. "Dallas?"

I jogged over to him and noticed him clutching his side. After I noticed the blood on his shirt I pulled his hand away, only to reveal a large tear in the shirt with a lot more blood. "Shoot Dallas, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." he tried to keep walking, but I stopped him so I could get a better look at the cut.

"There's no way you're fine." I moved the shirt away from the cut and regretted it instantly. There was a huge gash from about half way down his ribs to his hip. I winced just looking at it.

"Either I'm telling the truth and I am fine, or I'm lying. Are you really going to believe I'm telling the truth, or are you gonna help me?" I looked up at Dallas and it was clear by his facial expression that he was in a lot of pain. "Just let me lean on you. 'M okay, just hurts to put pressure on my side."

The fact that Dallas actually asked for help worried me a lot. Dallas was usually too proud to ask for help. Usually he was too proud to even admit he was hurt, so it wasn't a good sign that he just did both. As soon as we got inside I sat him down on the couch and quickly left to find our first aid kit.

"I'm getting blood on the couch." I heard Dallas complain. Rolling my eyes, I threw a towel at him, then went back to looking for the first aid kit. "There's already blood on the couch, no use in using it now."

"Apply pressure to your side. It'll stop the bleeding." I called out. When I finally found the first aid kit it only had some ace bandages and a sewing needle. I sighed and grabbed some dental floss out of the bathroom, then looked around the kitchen to find something to clean out the cut with. I knew I wouldn't find anything, just empty bottles of beer and whiskey. I went into my room and grabbed a book off my book shelf. I hallowed one out some time ago to hide vodka in so no one would drink it on me. I walked back into the living room and placed everything on the coffee table. "'Sides, a little club soda and dish soap will get rid of the blood stains on the couch."

Dallas gave me a weird look. "What, d'you kill someone I didn't know about?" he joked. He laughed slightly, but stopped as soon as he started, obviously due to pain.

"Shirt off." I ordered. He complied, tossing the towel at me and his shirt on the floor. I used the towel to wipe away the blood so I could get a better look at how bad the cut actually was, and I felt sick right away. "Dallas, I think you should just go to a hospital. I think I can see a bone."

He tried to sit up more, wincing, and glared at me. "No hospitals." he said quickly.

"Fine." I set the towel down and picked up the vodka. Dallas gave me a confused look, but I ignored him. I opened the bottle and tilted it to pour on the wound, but as soon as I did that he grabbed it away from me.

"That's a waste." He informed me. "It's meant for drinking."

I sighed and gave him a serious look. "I need to clean the cut with something, and that's all I could find."

He pouted a bit, but reluctantly handed it back to me after taking a mouthful. I did the same, then poured it over his cut. I knew it would hurt like a bitch, but I hadn't expected Dallas to jerk away and hiss in pain. I felt kind of bad. He immidiately tried to play it off like it didn't actually hurt that much, but I knew he was lying. He just had too much pride to admit how much it hurt. As it was, it probably hurt more than I could tell, since I knew Dallas would hold back as much as he could. He'd had cuts like this in the past, once it was even worse, but I'd always had proper stuff to clean it with, or I hadn't even thought to clean it.

I handed him the bottle and told him to drink what was left, and then began to stitch the wound up. It didn't take long, but by the time I was done my hands were covered in blood and around the cut was still all bloody. I wiped my hands on the towel and wiped off the wound, then picked up the ace bandages. When I started to rap it around his ribs he winced a bit so I stopped. "Too tight?"

"No, it's fine." He sounded annoyed, like I was babying him.

I rolled my eyes and unwrapped what I had done, then wrapped it back up looser. "If it's too tight you ought to tell me. It's ace, not gauze, so it'll break your ribs if it's too tight." Dallas mumbled something that I couldn't understand, but he was probaby just saying that it would be fine.

When I was finally all done, I began to clean everything up. I was about to put the towel in with the dirty laundry, but as soon as I stood up I heard the front door open then slam shut. I looked over to see Dad stumble in, obviously drunk, with a cut on the left side of his face. It was probably only three inches, starting at his temple, going down to his cheek bone. It wasn't near as deep as Dallas', though it was clear it would need stitches. I was glad I hadn't tossed the towel in the dirty laundry yet. I walked over to dad and handed him the towel. He wasn't as stuborn as Dallas, so I didn't even need to tell him what to do with the towel. He just found a spot that wasn't already covered in blood and held it against the cut.

I left to go to the kitchen to try to find something to clean the cut with again. I didn't know why I thought I'd be able to find something this time around, but I was hoping. Dad had tried to follow me into the kitchen, but he kept tripping over his feet and gave up. He sat in a chair in the living room and waited. "What happened to your brother?"

I was too distracted looking for something to clean the cut with to answer him. A minute or two later I walked out of the kitchen, no looking finding anything. "Hey dad, do we have anything I can clean that with?"

He didn't answer for a while, so I figured he was ignoring me. He didn't even bother to look at me, he was staring at Dallas the whole time. I went back into the kitchen to continue looking, but as soon as I got in the kitchen I heard him answer me. "Check in the freezer."

I hadn't thought to check there. When I opened the freezer, I wished I had thought to check there earlier. There were three unopened bottles of vodka, and one bottle that had already been opened and was around half empty. I grabbed that bottle, and walked back into the living room to where dad was sitting. When I got over to Dad he still didn't take his eyes off Dallas, he just took the towel off of the cut and titled his head.

"It's gonna hurt a bit." I warned.

I started to pour the vodka onto the cut, and he winced slightly. "What happened to him?" He asked again.

I looked over at Dallas, who was clearly uncomfortable with all the attention he was getting. He wouldn't look at us, or even anywhere in our general direction, but it was obvious he could tell we were both looking at him. "He was at a rumble." I told Dad.

"If I knew anyone would be bringing a knife this wouldn't have happened." He said defensively. "I can beat any of those bastards in a fair fight. I could probably beat any of them even in a unfair fight, if I wasn't planning on it being fair. She told me it was no weapons." Dallas frowned at me, and it was the first time it occured to me that someone must have brought a knife to the rumble.

"Who was it?" I asked him.

He looked like he was thinking hard about it, though he was still frowning. "One of Bob's witnesses."

I tilted my head slightly. "Randy or David?"

Dallas looked lost when I said those names, which was when I remembered he probably didn't know any of them other than Bob by name. "It wasn't anyone I've seen you with before."

I didn't say anything to that. I knew it must have been Chris, so I didn't have anything else to say or ask. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a shot glass out of the cupboard. When I got back out to the living room I poured some vodka in it, then dropped the needle I had used to stitch Dallas up in it.

Dad had been silent since I told him Dallas had been in the rumble. He looked spaced out, so I figured he wasn't paying any attention to either of us anymore. His expression didn't change even after I started to stitch the cut on his face up, and it still remained the same when I was done.

"Thanks." He mumbled.

Dallas tried to stand up, but his face immidiatly filled with regret. He winced a bit and held his side, but he still continued trying to stand up. I rolled my eyes at him and pushed him back down, only to have him throw a bit of a fit.

"I need a cancer stick." He protested.

Rolling my eyes at him, I put a pack of smokes and some matches on the table in front of him. "Smoke in here then."

He tried to stand back up again, but his side must have hurt because he winced again and reconsidered. As he lit a smoke, Dad started to laugh. I looked over at him, only to find that he already tore the bottom part of his stitches. There was a bit of blood running down his face, but I knew restitching it wouldn't do any good, because he'd probably just tear it out again.

"Look at you. Not even going to be sixteen for month, and you're already taking care of your brother and me." Dad laughed. "You're acting like it's normal to have your brother bleeding half to death, and your father coming home drunk from a bar fight."

"It's been normal since we moved here." Obviously that was an exageration, but sometimes it didn't feel like it.

"You're going to outlive your brother and I by a long shot." Dad concluded.

I rolled my eyes. "I like to think you guys will grow up."

Dad turned and smiled at me, but it seemed like he was looking through me. It gave me an uneasy feeling, and Dad didn't help that any. "What an optimistic child."

"I see myself as more of a 'the glass is half empty' kind of gal." I joked. Dad shook his head and chuckled to himself. Something gave me the feeling it wasn't my joke he was laughing at, but I didn't say anything. Insead, I waited for him to.

"Y'know, it's a mirracle your brother's made is this far. Same for me, I guess. I don't think either of us are going to get much farther in life."

I looked over at Dallas, who nodded. It wasn't sarcastic and he wasn't just nodding along, he just genuinely seemed to agree with what Dad was saying. It was weird, I couldn't remember the last time Dad and Dallas agreed on something. I knew both of them were over reacting, but it still seemed weird.

I shook my head at them. "You guys are over reacting." I said. "I'm going to bed. I'll clean up in the morning."

When I started to walk away, Dad stopped me. I thought he was going to say something, but I didn't even give him time to open his mouth. "You're over reacting." I repeated, then this time, I actually went to bed.

 **A/N: Reply time!**

 **Pony'sgirlfriend: Thanks! I'm not too happy with my last update, but I'm glad you liked it. I think this one is pretty okay overall, and I'm a little worried how the next update will turn out, but hey, I guess what really matters is that the people who read it like it, right?**  
 **And like I get where you're coming from; it was technically self defense. But he went straight for the heart. I'd have at least tried to put up a fight first, like maybe stab them in the arm or side or something not so fatal. But I mean hey, Johnny can do whatever he likes. To be honest, as someone who's into true crime, if Johnny were a real person I'd probably really like him and find him interesting.**

 **Haleymay: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you liked it. Personally I wasn't too happy with that chapter, but I'm glad the people who read it liked it! I think I'm just a little hard on my writing because I want to be able to better. But like I said to Pony'sgirlfriend, what really matters is that the people who read it liked it. So I'm glad you did. (:**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Sorry about the late update! Like I said, I got in troubke, blah blah blah. And I'm sorry to say, but my updates may take a bit longer for the next bit. I just got a job, so I might not find much time to write while I'm getting use to it. But I don't work this week, so chapter ten will probably be out on time. I promise my updates will be back to being biweekly soon.**

That morning I woke up before everyone. I didn't bother trying to fall back asleep, I just got up and started cleaning up the mess from last night. There was more blood on the couch than I had remembered, so it took me close to two hours to clean it all up. The whole time I regretted not cleaning it up before it dried, but by the time I was done you almost couldn't tell anything happened in the first place.

I hadn't expected anyone to be awake, and sure enough there wasn't. It was only seven thirty in the morning on a Saturday. The only reason why either of them would be awake was if that hadn't ever gotten to sleep. I looked around for pain killers for Dad and Dallas when they woke up. Dad would probably have a hang over, and both of them would probably be in pain because of their fights. Upon not finding any, I grabbed some money Dad hid in an empty whiskey bottle and left.

It didn't take long. Fifteen minutes to get to the store, five minutes to find what I was looking for and pay, fifteen minutes to get back home. I could have just stollen the pills if I wanted to, but I tried not to make a habit out of it. Not to say that I never stole, because I did quite often, I just tried not to when I didn't have to.

When I got home I slammed the door. I didn't worry because usually Dad and Dallas were both heavy sleepers, but after the door slammed I heard a groan come from Dallas' room. I walked over and leaned in his door frame, and Dallas gave me a grumpy look. "What were you doing out so early?"

I shook the bottle of pills, then tossed them to Dallas. "Ibuprofen. Eat up." I told him.

He gave me a thankful look and popped a few, then put them on his nightstand. "Why are you awake so early, anyways?"

I shrugged and walked inside his room a bit more. "I couldn't sleep. I've been awake for a few hours now."

"So you decided to go buy pills?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I cleaned up the living room, too. The couch looks good as new." Dallas gave me a slightly impressed look and nodded. "'Sides, I wanted to go see Izzy or check up on Bob today and I needed to kill some time until I thought they'd be awake."

Dallas' impressed look quickly turned into a scowl. "Why do you have to do that?" He demanded. "Why do you always have to bring _them_ up. I'll pretty much foget that you choose to associate with those people, but then you always go and say something about it. You ain't even really friends with them. It's just a phase. You're just going through your rebelious phase."

 _I_ was just going through my rebelious phase? Dallas' whole life was a rebelious phase. "I thought they weren't my friends because they secretly just wanted to kill me." I mocked.

Dallas looked pissed and was about to say something, but Dad beat him to it. "Would you guys shut up! My head's killing me."

I grabbed the ibuprofen off of Dallas' night stand and walked over to Dad's room and tossed him in his general direction. "I'm going out."

I realized it was still too early to go see anyone, so I grabbed a book from my room on my way out. When I got to the front door I was stopped by Doc weaving himself between my legs. I picked him up and pet him for a minute. I felt bad about how little attention I payed to him this morning. I decided I might as well bring him with me.

I put Doc down once I got outside, and just like yesterday he followed me and didn't try to run off. I was just headed to the park, so it wasn't that far of a walk. When I got there I climbed on top of the monkey bars carrying Doc. Once I got on top I lied down on them and started to read. Doc layed down on my stomach, but he stayed alert and moved around a lot. It was a bit distracting at first, but eventually he settled down.

I was probably reading for somewhere between thirty minutes to and hour when I felt Doc move again. I thought I heard footsteps, but I must have just been hearing things because no sooner had I started to hear them they stopped. I didn't care enough to check anyways. But when Doc meowed, I heard someone mutter something under their breath.

"I don't bite." I teased.

"Well I know _that_." The person sounded annoyed, so I smirked a bit. Their voice sounded familiar, though, so I decided to look up from my book.

I recognised him right away. It was none other than Ponyboy. He had a cut on his eyebrow, a busted lip, and a few bruises that I could see. It was clear that he'd been in the rumble. It seemed odd to me that his older brother would let him be in the rumble, considering everything.

"Hey kid." I sat up, being careful not to let Doc fall. "How are ya'?"

He looked a bit uncomfortable, but walked over to a tree that was a bit closer to me and leaned against it. He ignored my question, so I didn't push it. "How's Dally? I didn't see him after the rumble."

"He ain't great, so say the least." Pony gave me a confused and worried look. "Someone must have not gotten the 'No weapons' memo."

"I'd ask who, but you wouldn't tell me if I did, would you?"

"Not because I'm trying to protect them, because I don't want you or any of your friends going after him and getting hurt." Pony rolled his eyes, and started to leave. "He's as good as dead to me, kid. You really think I'd try to protect someone who could have killed my brother? I mean, maybe if Dallas was asking for it, but all he did was show up to a rumble."

Pony stopped, then leaned back against the tree again. After a few minutes Pony decided to break the silence. "Whatcha readin'?"

* * *

I stayed at the park and spoke to Pony for close to an hour before I decided to leave. I went home to drop off Doc and my book, then headed back out to check on Bob. I figured more likely than not he would be at Randy's, and even if he wasn't I wanted to see Izzy anyways, so that's where I headed.

I knocked on the door when I got there. I expected the maid to be the one to answer the door (since apparently that's part of their job), but instead it was Bob. "Candie! Fancy seeing you here. Though I don't understand why you even bothered knocking instead of just coming right in."

I half grinned at him and took a step inside. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

Now that it was day time and there was better lighting I could see a bruise on his jaw and a few scrapes on his neck, but other than that he looked fine. He certainly looked better than Pony or Dallas. I still was a little conserned, though. I put my hand on the bruise on his jaw, but he pushed it away. "I'm _fine_." he assured.

"Of course you are. You're always fine." I frowned at him a bit and he sighed.

I heard footsteps aproaching and assumed it was Randy or Izzy or someone, but I was wrong. "Well now, look who is."

I turned to see Chris standing there, smiling at me. My frown didn't go away, though. If anything it got bigger. Bob and Chirs both seemed confused. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"I get that my brother is Dallas Winston, and he's a bit of a jerk, but that doesn't give you the _right_ to-"

"Woah, calm down Sugar." Chris put his hands up slightly and looked confused. "He showed up to the rumble, all we did was fi-"

"No." I cut him off. "I wouldn't have cared if you hurt him, even broke a rib or two. You brought a _knife_. You could have killed him!"

"He's a greaser, Princess." Chris said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which I guess it was. But he said it like it cleared everything up.

"Stop with the names!" I yelled. "Just because you hear David call me them, doesn't mean you can. The first thing I told you when we met, is don't call me them. Nothing has changed. Only now you almost killed my brother. I'm sick of people I care about getting hurt."

Chris looked offended. "Hey, he got me pretty good too! He-"

"You. Had. A. Knife!" I shoved him back as hard as I could, which didn't really do much. He stumbled back slightly, but he regained his balance as quick as he lost it. "I don't care if my brother gave you a few bruises and a scratch. I don't care if he's a greaser. I don't care about _you_. He's my brother, and I ain't going to let _anyone_ kill him, especially some jerk like you who thinks that he's a greaser can justify killing him."

"Chris, I think you should leave." I looked over and saw Randy standing on the stairs, looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Dude, come on. He's just some greaser. And I mean, _she's_ ju-" Chris started, but was cut off.

"Leave." was the only word that came out of Bob's mouth.

Chris didn't leave right away. He stood there and glared at me for what felt like forever. And not that I would ever say it out loud, he did look pretty scary. I stepped back away from Chris and closer to Bob, for no reason other than the fact that I _was_ a little scared. Chris must have took this as a win, because as soon as I did, he left.

The second the door slammed shut I heard muffled giggling. I looked up past Randy to see Izzy standing at the top of the stares, grinning like an idiot. "Bob and Candie sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

I rolled my eyes at Izzy, and from the corner of my eye I saw Bob do the same. "You guys wanna come over to my place for a beer?" Bob offered. When Randy looked confused, Bob spoke again. "Your Mom will be getting home soon."

I shrugged. "I'm game."

Both Bob and I looked at Randy, who still looked confused. "Guys, it's not even three o'clock."

"It's never stopped us before." I pointed out.

"I want to come!" Izzy pouted from her spot at the top of the stairs.

Randy looked at her and shook his head. "You're too young to be drinking. Especially at this hour."

"Candie drank with you guys when she was my age. _At this hour_." Izzy complained.

"Actually, little miss, I drank with them before I was your age." When Randy gave me an annoyed look, I added "Not at this hour though."

Bob chuckled a bit. "Sorry kid, but you're too young. It'd be different if you weren't Randy's kid sister-"

"But you always say you see Candie as a kid sister." Izzy argued.

I grinned at Izzy. Boy, was this girl persistent. "She's got you there, Bob."

Bob cracked his nuckles and seemed to think about it. "Candie has always done things at the same time I do. That's not going to change just to prove a point to you."

"Well why does she get to do things when you do things when you do but I have to wait?" Izzy seemed to be trying so hard, but it wouldn't work.

"Just give up, kid." I told her. She pouted, but retreated into her room.

"Randy, you never said if you were coming or not." Bob reminded him.

"You know I'm going to." Randy said. He didn't sound like he really wanted to, but he always came anyways. I swear, most the time Randy only drank because Bob did. Randy didn't seem to like drinking too much. He enjoyed it at parties, or when he was celebrating something, but he didn't like it as an every day activity. Personally, I was indifferent to it. It's never something I would pass up, but I wouldn't often drink if no one else was.

"Well, then let's get going before your mom gets home." I grabbed Randy by his sleeve and dragged him out of the house.

Bob only lived a few streets down, so it took us under ten minutes to get there. Bob's house didn't look too big on the outside compared to the other houses on his street, but on the inside it seemed so much bigger. I actually managed to get lost in it the first time I was here.

I almost bumped into someone as soon as we got inside. It was a girl who looked to be around two years older than Bob. I didn't think anything of it, though. Bob had a lot of family from out of state, and it felt like there was always someone visiting for a few days. Lord know there were probably enough guest rooms to have everyone in his family over at once.

I followed Bob into the kitchen, trying not to bump into anyone else. Bob's parents hired quite a few people, and I didn't even know what they were all supposed to do.

Bob walked over to the fridge and tossed Randy and I a beer, before grabbing one for himself and shut the fridge. I took a gulp and tried not to make a face. I had never really been a huge fan of beer, I didn't really understand why people liked it so much. I mean, if you're just looking for a buzz it will do the job, but it tastes terrible.

Bob's mother walked in a few minutes later and smiled at us. "I didn't realize you guys were here."

"Yeah, well we decided to stop by for a drink." Bob explained.

His mother nodded, then her eye set on me. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking?" I replied with a shrug. "What would your father have to say about it?"

"Daddy's an alcoholic, Ma'am." I told her. "He'd probably say something about me being my father's daughter."

Both Bob and Randy seemed to find something funny about this, because they were laughing a bit. Bob's mother, on the otherhand, didn't find this funny at all. Still, she didn't do anything about it, and I hadn't expected her to. "Just don't drink too much."

We stayed in the kitchen after his mother left and talked for a bit. I wasn't paying too much attention to what they were saying, since Bob was just complaining more about how he wanted to be able to be on the football team this year, but eventally the subject changed.

"Michael's throwing a party tomorrow night." Bob informed us.

I tried to remember who that was. If he was who I thought, I'd hung out with him once or twice before. He and David were pretty good friends, and I knew he hung out with Bob and Randy sometimes. I don't think I'd ever really had a one-on-one conversation with him before. I use to be friends with his sister, though. She was the same age as me, so we had a few classes together.

"On a Sunday?" I gave Bob a weird look. Sunday was the worst day to throw a party. As it was, everyone was always tired monday morning, so staying up all night a party the night before didn't seem like a good idea.

Bob shrugged. "I didn't think to ask why."

I nodded. I didn't actually care why, anyways. "Well he's throwing a party, what about it?"

"I was thinking we could all go." The way Bob said it sounded more like a question than a statement. "I already checked with David and he said he was going to be there for sure. I heard it was supposed to be to celebrate winning the rumble, so it's mostly just going to be the guys who were at the rumble, probably a few others, and some girls."

I shrugged and nodded. I didn't like being in large crowds, but everyone was always drunk at parties so I wasn't exactly worried about making a fool of myself. I didn't wait for Randy's answer, he'd say yes even if he didn't want to. Randy seemed to like parties though, so I didn't worry about him not wanting to go.

"Maybe you guys will be able to get new girlfriends. I don't think I can remember a time in my life where you guys were single for this long." I joked. It was true, though. A lot of girls seemed to like Bob and Randy. Even more girls liked David, but he never really met anyone who caught his eye I guess, because he usually stayed single.

"Who knows." Bob muttered idly.

It was getting to be around the time of year where it started getting darker out earlier, so I decided to leave not much after. It wouldn't be getting darker out for probably another two hours, but I felt like going for a bit of a walk. However, it was also starting to get colder out, so I decided against it.

When I got to my house I could hear yelling coming from inside. I sighed and rolled my eyes. When I walked inside, they seemed to be just finishing their argument.

"Fine then!" Dallas yelled. "I'm going out." And with that he stormed past me and out the door with a glare set in stone on his face.

"What was that about?" I asked Dad, sitting on the couch.

He looked at me and shrugged. "Honestly? I don't even remember."

Some people might not have thought that made any sense, but I understood completely. It seemed often times when Dallas and Dad were arguing it was literally over nothing. It was just them calling each other names and telling each other they were wrong. Sometimes there wasn't any clear trigger to the argument, just one second they were fine, the next they were yelling at each other. It almost always ended with Dallas storming out, though. Not because he was a drama queen or anything (though let's be honest, he is), I think it was just because he had somewhere to go. Dallas could go to the Curtis' or Buck's, but I don't think Dad actually had any friends in Tulsa. Obviously he did have somewhere he could go if he wanted to leave, since he had to be going somewhere when he left all the time, but Dad had never run from an argument. Any time he left it was for seemingly no reason.

Dad sat down on the couch with me and we watched TV together. Dad calmed down real fast, and there was know way you'd be able to tell he was just in a yelling match with his son only minutes prior if you hadn't seen it yourself. That was one thing I liked about Dad. Seemingly nothing ruined his mood.

We stayed sitting on the couch, eyes glued to the TV for about three hours. At some point Dad ordered a pizza, and it got there only ten minutes before Dallas got back. He seemed to be in the same mood when he got back, though. He completely ignored Dad and I when he got home. He walked striaght past us into his room and slammed his door. I looked over at Dad who seemed to be trying his hardest not to burst into laughter.

Dad and I talked for a bit, leaving the TV ignored, before I also retreated to my room to read. It was my goal to finsh what left I had of _To Kill A Mockingbird_ , then I'd probably just restart it again. It was one of my favorite books.

I had finished reading the book from where I had left off and was on the third chapter of re-reading it when I put the book down. Dallas had finally come out of his room. I heard him slam the door closed after him and chuckled. "Finally decide to come out of your room? Shoot, and it only took three and a half hours."

"Shut up." Dallas grumbled. "How is your precious little soc, by the way? Does he have a huge gash down his side?"

I got up out of my bed and walked closer to Dallas. "Oh fuck off. Y'know you wouldn't have that cut if you didn't show up to the rumble in the first place? Or if you taught that dumb little puppy of yours it's impolite to kill people." I shot back.

"Your little soc friend was asking for it! And I wouldn't have this cut down my side if you hadn't lied to me about there being no weapons!" Dallas argued.

"You wouldn't have that cut down your side if the piece of shit soc that brought the knife followed the no weapons rule!" I realized that didn't exactly help my arguement, so I added "And Bob wasn't looking for it, all you greasers are just violent by nature and set to kill!"

I knew that wasn't exactly true, but I couldn't think of anything else to say at the top of my head. Dallas found it funny, though. "All you greasers?" he laughed. "Hate to break it to ya', but you're a greaser, too! Just as much of one as I am."

I didn't have muh to say to that, on the inside I knew it was true, so I decided to argue a different point. "And by the way, I saw the soc that brought the knife today at Randy's. But don't worry, I bitched at him for you. I defended _Dallas Winston_. I got mad at a soc for hurting _Dallas fucking Winston_. How do you think that made me look? But you know, anything for my hood of a brother!"

Dallas shook his head. "You know how it made you look? Like _you_! Like a _greaser_! Which is exactly what you are, you know. They know it to. So keep this rebelious phase going if you want, but they have _some_ reason to keep you around other than enjoying your company."

"And you think you're one to lecture me on going through a rebelious phase?" I scoffed. "Dallas, your entire life is one big rebelious phase! I wouldn't be talking if I were you."

"It's not a rebelious phase if it's exactly who you were raised you to be." Dallas lowered his voice so he was no longer yelling. I was rather taken aback, and that must have been noticable because Dallas chuckled bitterly. "What, it's true and you know it. Mom's borderline deadbeat and sleeps around with the right people in order to recieve the most benificial outcome, and Dad is just a piece of trash like me. I'm not going through a rebelious phase, I'm excepting the hand I was dealt. Once you do the same, you'll realize you're just a piece of trash like me and Dad, and if you play your cards right maybe you'll be lucky enough to land some middle class guy like Mom."

Sometimes I was astounded with how much thought Dallas put into stuff. I'm not saying he's stupid, but he just doesn't really seem like the kind of guy to put much thought into anything. I usually thought he only thought about things as they were happening, but there were times, like this, when he proved me wrong.

"Wow Dallas, never knew you thought so much." I teased.

"Well, obviously I think more than you. Especially if you think any of those upper class boys could actually like you."

The only reason I was as bothered by this as I was, was because I wasn't really expecting it. I mean, I always expected something like this from Dallas, but I wasn't expecting it at that moment.

"Go to hell!" I stormed out of my room, past Dallas, and into the living room.

I completely forgot Dad was even here until I heard him sigh and saw him sitting on the couch. "Guys.."

I ignored him and grabbed a jacket that was hanging up by the front door. "I'm going out." I informed Dad.

"Yeah, I know. That's the one sentence I've heard most today." he mumbled.

I left and got about half way down the street before I heard Dallas call after me. "That's my coat!"

"Frankly, I don't give a damn." I called back. I turned to look at him and flipped him off, before continuing to make my way down the street.

I didn't know where I was gong. It was going on two in the morning, so everyone would be asleep right now. Keeping that thought in mind, I just wandered around aimlessly. I didn't mind much, though. I just wanted to get out of the house for a bit, and Dallas' jacket was keeping me warm enough.

At one point, a car pulled up beside me. I didn't panic or start to walk any faster, though. I just minded my own business and kept walking. For all I knew the person was having car troubles, or he was where he was going. Looking around and not seeing any houses made me doubt the latter, but there was still no reason for me to think I had anything to worry about.

I mean, it was a bit annoying that they had to pull up _right beside me_ , because how was I to know for sure he wasn't going to jump me? On this side of town, you never really knew. I guess it didn't really matter what side of town I was on, there were creeps everywhere. And at this time of night is when all the drunk idiots are out. I felt a shiver run down my spine, and suddenly I didn't feel like walking around anymore.

"Hey you!" I heard a voice.

I turned around to see someone about ten feet back. I couldn't tell if I knew them or not, it was dark so all I could make out was a silouette. "Ain't you that soc bitch?"

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. Well this was just great. "Yup." I turned back around and started walking a bit faster. Which was pointless, because I knew no matter how hard I tried I wouldn't get away. "That's me."

I heard footsteps getting louder behind me, and I was about to turn around to just tell the guy to leave me alone (which also would have been pointless), but the guy shoved me to the ground before I got the chance.

"It's rude to walk away from a conversation, you know."

"Rude?" I questioned. "I was going for the mature route of walking away from a fight."

I tried to get up, knowing full well the guy wouldn't let me. As soon as I got up onto my hands and knees the guy kicked me back down. "Ain't you Winston's kid sister?"

I winced and forced a laugh. "Last month literally no one knew that. Fuck, things changed."

The guy laughed, only it didn't seem to be forced like mine. "Sure, change the subject." I tried to crawl away, but that only got me another kick to the stomach. "You sure are a shitty sister, y'know. Got one of your rich bitches to cut up your brother like that."

I managed to crawl over to a tree and stand up without the guy stopping me. He was too amused to be bothered to kick me back down. He started to walk over to me, and I met him half way. I was about to kick him, but he grabbed my foot and backed me up against a tree. "It doesn't matter." I muttered to him.

My head jerked to the side and I closed my eyes as his fist collided with my face. When I finally opened my eyes again and turned my head to look him, my eyes caught something shiney. It caught the light of the moon for a second, but as soon as I saw it, it disappeared. The guy smirked and tilted it again so the light reflected off of it again, and this time I could see clearly what it was.

Of course he had to pull a blade on me. With one hand he grabbed me by my shirt collar and held me in place against the tree, and the other hand controlled the knife. I tried to push him away, but I to no avail. I was a girl; I didn't get in fights and I never had to lift anything heavy. I had next to no stength in my arms.

"You're just a nobody." He told me, as he dragged the knife down the side of my face in a curved motion.

It was then when I realized how much danger I could be in. I was in a situation where I could potentially end up dead. Though I knew it was likely I wouldn't be killed, it was still possible. I didn't know anything about this guy.

I stopped trying to push him away and searched the pockets of Dallas' jacket to see if he had a knife or something else I could use to defend myself. The pockets were empty, but I felt something hard. I continued to pat around the pocket, before I realized whatever it was was probably in a pocket inside of the jacket, so I checked. As soon as I put my hand in the pocket my hand came into contact with a cold metal object. I continued to feel the object, until I realized it was a gun. I hesitated for a minute. Obviously Dallas wouldn't keep a loaded gun on him, but would it actually be a good idea to pull it out?

I snapped out of my thoughts as the guy, whoever he was, pulled my bottom lip down with his blade. He was giving me a creepy smile and looking in my eyes, and that was when I decided pulling the gun on him seemed to be my best option right now.

There wasn't enough room between us for me to actually be able to pull the gun out and point it at him like they do in action movies, which I shouldn't have found as disappointing as I did, so I pulled it out and pressed it to his stomach. His face fell immediatley. He took a step back and looked at the gun, before dropping the knife and chuckling.

"We're all nobodies." I told him.

He had a knowing look in his eye. "You want to be somebody though, right? That's why you hand around those rich bitches, ain't it? You think it'll make you a somebody."

I rolled my eyes. I wanted to tell him that he didn't know a thing about me and that he should just shut his trap, but that wasn't what came out. What came out sounded epically lame. "Fear the nobodies, kid."

He made an annoyed sound, probably because I called him a kid when he was clearly older than me. I didn't ask him about it, though, and he didn't say anything. I walked away, quicker than I had been walking before, with the gun still in my hand.

* * *

I didn't know how I ended up here. It had to be at least three, clearly no one would be awake. _I should head home_. That was the thought running through my head, as I picked up a rock in one hand and threw it at the window above me. When nothing happened, I threw another. "Romeo, you sonovabitch." _And another_. "Would you wake up already?" I didn't want to yell, because I didn't want to wake anyone else up, but at the same time I had to speak sort of loud so that he'd hear me.

A few seconds later, a very sleepy looking Bob opened the window. "Ah, she speaks." he rubbed his eye and looked annoyed. "My Juliet speaks. At three in the morning, I might add." I rolled my eyes. It wasn't the first time I'd shown up at his house at some ungodly hour. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged a bit. "Got in a fight with Dallas, I wanted to get out of the house for a bit."

Bob rolled his eyes, but returned into his room. Bob's room faced the backend of the house, so I had to climb back over the fence to get to the front door. I would have just waited at the back door but it made a lot of noise, and I didn't want to wake his parents. By the time I got to the front door, Bob was already waiting with the door open. "You could have knocked, you know." he muttered.

"And risk waking your dad? No way!" I said a bit too dramatically, and walked inside.

When we got up to Bob's room and he turned the light on his face seemed to change drastically. "Dallas did _that_ to you?" He questioned angrily.

I laughed and ran a hand through my hair, only to remember I still had the gun in my hand. Bob seemed to just notice it then, and he took it from me looking both confused and repulsed. "It ain't loaded." I assured him. I turned to look at my face in a mirror Bob had in his room, and I couldn't help but laugh more at how I looked. "And naw, Dallas didn't do this to me. Whoever it was knew him, though."

I looked like a piece of shit. I hadn't realized how much I'd been sweating, but the light made my face look shiney from all the sweat and my hair looked pretty greasy too. My nose was bleeding a bit and was bruised, presumably from the punch, but I still found it weird because it didn't hurt at all. My lip was cut in the middle from where he had his knife, but I had already knew it was cut because it was stinging a lot. But nothing looked or felt as bad as the cut on the side of my face. I mean, it actually looked pretty bad ass, it had a bit of blood dripping from it and it wasn't all that puffy, but it sure did hurt a lot. The rest of my face had a bit of dirt on it, which must have been from all the times he kicked me to the ground.

Speaking of which, I hadn't yet checked how my side looked. He kicked me in the same spot every time, so I just pulled my shirt up on my side and took a look. There was a pretty bad bruise around my ribs that was turning a deep shade of purple. I shrugged it off; it didn't hurt, so it couldn't be that bad. But Bob seemed to notice it before I let my shirt fall back into place.

"Hey, let me take a look at that." He ordered.

I rolled my eyes. "Now you just want to get my shirtless." He gave me a serious look, though, so I shrugged and took my shirt off. I'd been swimming with him before, it wasn't anything he hadn't seen. "I probably have some bruises on my knees, need me to take my pants off too?" I teased.

He gave me an annoyed look, but his face was red. Other then that, though, he ignored my comment. He put a hand on the bruise and I held my breath. He gave me a concerned look. "Does that hurt?"

I shook my head. "Your hand's just cold."

I looked at him, and only now realized he was only wearing pyjama pants, and no shirt. He looked adorable right now, to say the least. He had terrible bed head and it was clear that I had only woken him up not that long ago, but despite all that he still didn't seem to look bad.

"C'mon Candie, you could have broken a rib or somethi-"

I cut him off by sucking in a deep dreath, then exhaling loudly. "I feel fine. No broken ribs. Just a bruise." He was about to protest, but I cut him off. "Why do you worry so much?"

"Because! Because I fucking-" he stopped when he realized he was raising his voice. I had almost forgotten we needed to worry about not waking his parents, especially now that I was only wearing a bra and Bob also wasn't wearing a shirt. "Because I care about you, alright?" he whisper-yelled.

I smiled and shook my head. "You care too much."

I grabbed the gun and my jacket that had been tossed on Bob's bed up. I put the jacket on, the gun in the pocket, then picked up my shirt and held it to the cut on my head. "You need sleep. But I'll be back here tomorrow before the party."

He gave me a wide-eyed, conserned look, and looked me up and down before shaking his head. "You can't go out like that! You're basically just asking fo-" I took the gun out of the coat pocket and poked it against Bob's chest, which shut him up real fast.

I stood on my tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, before giving him a half grin and shaking my head. "It's sweet that you care, but my dad also cares, and he's probably wondering where I am by now. I have to go." And with that, I left.

I had the luck of not having any more run-ins with anyone on the way home. As soon as I got home, I hung up the jacket and placed the gun on the table. "Here's your gun Dallas."

He was looking at me, arms crossed. "The hell happened to you?" He demanded. "And why aren't you wearing a shirt?" Dallas was glaring at me, but Dad wasn't paying any attention to either of us. Instead, he had his eyes glued to the paper.

I shrugged and walked into my room. "You're lucky I have my pants on." I called.

That was enough to get both of their attention.

 **A/N: Repy time!**

 **Pony'sgirlfriend: Thanks, I try. I just feel like if I'm going to have OCs in my story, it better be written to the best of my abilities if I want people to read it. Your review made my day, to be honest ㈴2**

 **Anonymous: Aha, thanks. I hope you liked last chapter and this chapter.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Not that anyone actually cares, but I felt like being accurate about what show Candie could be watching in this chapter for some reason, so I tried to think of shows I knew that were around in the sixties that Candie would like. Obviously, the first thing I thought of was the Ed Sullivan show. So, I looked to see when every episode aired, so I could look for one that would take place around this time. Not sure if anyone has been following along, but this episode takes place on a Sunday at the end of September. So, I was looking at what episodes aired in 1964. The first episode of season 18 aired September 27th. Right around the time of the month I'm looking for. So, I checked what that episode was. Like I said, not sure if y'all have been paying attention but Candie** _ **loves**_ **The Beach Boys. Whadya know, they were on this episode. So, I checked what day the 27th was.** _ **Sunday**_ **. Y'all probably don't care, I just thought this was hella cool and I needed to share it with someone.**

 **Also I'd like to take time to complain about how you Americans don't have a word for a mickey.** _ **No,**_ **not the date rape drug. A 375ml bottle of vodka. Like, using some slang word would sound a lot better than a "thirteen-ounce bottle of vodka". You guys really ought to get on that.**

 **And another thing (sorry, I've been adding these as I write the story), I apologize in advance for when I'm talking about hair and makeup. I have short hair, so when she's doing her hair I was looking at a picture tutorial collage thing, and I didn't really know how to write what the person was doing. I was tempted to just include a link of the picture I was looking at. And for the makeup; I know how to use makeup to make my face look more masculine, and I know how to put on eyeliner and make it look like I was up all night partying and didn't have time to wash it off. That's the extent of my knowledge of makeup. I don't know how to talk about applying makeup or anything like that, so my makeup talk is annoyingly vague. I just. My sincere apologies.**

 **ALSO I'd like to apologize for how late this update is. I know I said something about getting a job, and between work and school I've literally had no time to work on this. But I'm gonna update, even if it means failing my exams. This update will be done.**

I slept in the next day, which only made sense. But I didn't think about that when I woke up. The first thing that was on my mind was the pain in my face. I know that sounds vague, but it seemed that my whole face in general was hurting. I got up out of my bed and walked over to my vanity to look at my face. I ran a hand through my hair and made a face at how greasy it felt. That wasn't the only thing I made a face at, though. I looked even worse than I did yesterday. My nose was now swollen, and I had dried blood all over my face. My lip must have bled more in my sleep, because there was a trail of dried blood from my lip down my chin. There was a bit of blood around my nose too, but not much. The cut on the side of my face was a complete mess, to say the least. There was so much dried blood around it that you couldn't tell where the actual cut was. I walked into the bathroom the was some of the blood off of my face, but when I was done the cut on the side of my face just had more blood running down my face.

I shook my head at my reflection. I looked like complete shit, but I'd just worry about that later. I needed to wake up a bit more first. So I turned off the bathroom light then headed to the kitchen. On my way to the kitchen I saw Dad sitting on the couch with a brown bag on the floor beside him and a bottle of vodka on the table in front of him. He looked up at me and smirked. "Finally, you're up."

That was around the time I realized I had probably slept in.

"You missed church."

I rolled my eyes, and Dad laughed at his own joke. Probably as a result of the alcohol he'd consumed, but I shook my head at him nonetheless. Dad and I weren't at all religious. I wasn't sure about Dallas; he'd never indicated whether he was or not. I knew he had a wooden crucifix necklace Mom had given him, but he never wore it.

I eyed the clock we kept over the stove to see how late I had slept in, and shrugged a bit. It was only one.

"Ain't it a bit early to be drinking?" I looked at Dad to see him pick up the bottle that was in front of him.

"What time do you start drinking at?" he asked, rather pointedly. I tilted my head a bit then nodded. Fair point, I guess. Only I didn't drink as much as he did. "I'd rather a bottle in front of me than I frontal lobotomy."

"Sounds like something Buck would say." I muttered. I didn't know Buck well, but I'd met him on a few occasions and something about what Dad had said made me think of him.

I stood there for a second, forgetting what I came out here to do. I rubbed my face without thinking about it, and regretted it right after. I wiped the blood on my hand off onto my pajama shirt. Dad made a face as if he just noticed the cut. "Do you need stitches?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. I'm going to a party tonight, anyways. I don't want to show up with hideous stitches in my face."

Dad didn't look to sure, though. "C'mere, let me take a look." When I didn't move, he added "The Beach Boys are on Ed Sullivan."

That was all it took for me to sit down beside him on the couch. I was paying so much attention to the TV that I hardly noticed Dad poking around the cut and making disapproving noises. "I'm not letting you leave without stitches if it's still bleeding."

I nodded, but I didn't really hear him. I mean, I heard the words he said, but I wasn't paying enough attention to him to be able to put the words together and understand what he said as a sentence. I was too busy watching The Beach Boys play their newest single, _I Get Around_. I really did like their newest album, but I preferred their album _Little Deuce Coupe_.

When the song was over, I paid a bit more attention to what was going on around me and I saw Dad smirking. "Think you're obsessed?" he teased.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not _obsessed_."

"Oh? What, just think Brian is cute so you pretend to dig the music too?" I made a face. _Brian Wilson_? No thanks!

I shook my head. "I'm more of a Dennis girl myself, but no. I like the music, it's great. They're my favorite. I just wouldn't say I'm _obsessed_."

Dad chuckled. "Nah, you're obsessed." Just as I was about to protest, Dad handed me the bottle of vodka and cut me off. "Drink the rest. I've got plenty more."

It was a thirteen-ounce bottle, only half full, but it still seemed like a lot to be drinking this early in the day. I watched as Dad pulled another thirteen-ounce bottle out of the brown bag on the floor and just shrugged. At least I knew I wouldn't be drinking as much as him.

I took a couple mouthfuls of vodka, then rested my head on Dad's shoulder, careful not to get blood on his shirt. We both watched the TV while Ed Sullivan talked to The Beach Boys. I frowned a bit when Ed jokingly called Dennis Ringo, though. Ringo had nothing on Dennis.

Dad and I both laughed at the one fan who went nuts in the crowd while Mike was talking. His face only made it better. He made a very taken aback bitch face. It probably wouldn't be as funny if I hadn't had anything to drink, but regardless, I thought it was funny now.

"Do you think he's right?" Ed asked Brian. "When Mike said surf music is just-" but a fan cut Ed off with a scream.

Brian looked like a scared puppy at that moment. Kind of in the way Johnny did, only Brian made it look good. "I didn't actually hear that..." he admitted.

They continued trying to talk, but the screams just grew more frequent and louder, so eventually Ed gave up and just let them play another song. They were playing _When I Grow Up._

The first time they tried to sing it they screwed up a bit. They sang it too flat, and not everyone started at the same time. Dad chuckled beside me, and I moved my head so I could smack his shoulder. "One does not _laugh_ at _The Beach Boys_."

He raised his hands, as if to make fun of me, but he watched them in silence nonetheless. I smiled as I watched them. They all looked so happy, it was contagious.

Dallas came in through the front door close the end of the song, and I hadn't realized until then that he must have been out. He was about to walk right past us, but something made him stop. He looked over at us and made an annoyed face. "Well ain't that a perfect sight. My alcoholic father with his stitched up face and my kid sister with her swollen, bleeding face, watching the Beach Boys while drinking together at-" he paused to check the time "-one thirty."

Dad and I both ignored him, but it made me think. Did I drink more than Dallas? I mean, I knew Dallas drank a lot, but he almost never drank before dark. Just because I drank at different hours than he did, didn't mean I drank more than him, though. When Dallas drank, he seemed to develop a go-big-or-go-home kind of mentality. But when I drank, I was usually careful not to drink too much.

"I want to go to California one day." I said, out of nowhere.

Dad turned and gave me an amused smile. "Oh yeah?" he turned back to the TV, but he didn't stop smiling. "Maybe I'll take you one day."

I grinned, knowing full well he wouldn't. It was a nice thought, though. And hey, a girl can hope.

I continued watching TV with Dad until around 3pm, and somewhere along the line I finished the bottle of vodka. But once it hit about three, I decided I should probably start to get ready for the party. I hadn't been told what time it was at, but I knew that Bob refused to show up to a party before dark, no matter what time it started. And since it didn't even start getting dark out until seven, I figured I'd leave here at around six and hang around Bob's until they decided to leave.

I figured before I did anything else, I should probably shower. That way I could properly clean out the cut on the side of my face, and wash my hair. So that's exactly what I did.

I had _I Get Around_ stuck in my head since I watched The Beach Boys preform it on TV, so I couldn't help but sing it to myself while I was in the shower. I stopped not long after I started, though, because Dallas banged on the bathroom door and yelled at me to shut up.

When I got out of the shower I checked my face in the mirror to see it was still bleeding. As I expected, it was. I grabbed a face cloth and held it to the cut in hopes that it would help stop the bleeding. At this point I wasn't really sure what to do about the cut. It would stop bleeding for a bit, but next thing I knew it was bleeding again.

I tried not to think about it. I'd deal with it after my hair was dry. I ran a brush through my hair as best I could, before attempting to dry it with one hand. Usually I would brush it while I dried it, but I was more concerned with trying to stop my face from bleeding.

After my hair was dry, I took the cloth off of my face. From what I could tell my face currently wasn't bleeding, so I rinsed the cloth off under the tap, then wiped away some of the blood around the cut. I took the fact that it didn't start bleeding as a good sign, so I made sure the towel I had wrapped around my body would stay put, the quickly walked out of the bathroom and into my room.

Once I was in my room I threw open my closet. It was a soc party, so I probably should have worn a party dress, but I just wasn't feeling it. Besides, most of the people there knew me. Which meant most knew I wasn't exactly a soc. I closed my closet then walked over to my dresser. I opened all of the drawers, but then remembered I had emptied the contents of my dresser throughout my room. I sighed and shut all of the drawers, then looked around my bed for a pair of pants to wear.

The first pair of pants I found that I like were a pair of skinny black leather pants. I'd worn them over the summer, so I knew they still fit, but I figured that even though everyone at the party knew I wasn't a soc, I probably shouldn't make it _that_ obvious. I'd stick to a pair of jeans. Even though most of the girls there would be wearing dresses and skirts, I figured I wouldn't stand out _too_ much if I wore a pair of jeans. I knew there were a few soc-y girls around our school that wore jeans, but they were the girls who tried to act edgy, or hated their parents and wanted to rebel. Still, they were socs nonetheless, so I figured jeans would work.

I found a pair of light, high wasted skinny jeans that I laid on my bed, then I started to search for a shirt. Upon not finding any on the ground, I opened my closet again to look in there. I looked over the countless black, white, and grey shirts, hoping to find on with a bit more color. I picked up one of my pink blouses, but I decided against it. I'd never really liked the way pink looked on me.

I put the blouse back and continued looking through my closet until I found a red, polka-dotted shirt. The shirt itself was red, and it had white polka-dots all over. When I was wearing it the shirt would stop at the top of my hips, so it was just short enough to not need to be tucked into a pair of high wasted jeans. The neckline didn't come down too low, but was wide enough to show off my collar bones. Better than all that, not only did it look good, but it was one of my most comfortable shirts. So of course, this was the shirt I went with.

After I got changed, I sat down in front of my vanity. As much as I wanted to say I didn't care what I looked like, it wasn't true. I mean, I'd love to be able to just go to the party without taking time to do my hair or makeup, but _everyone_ dressed up at least a bit to go to parties. Or dressed down, depending on who you were.

I decided to do my hair first. I still wasn't sure if the cut on my face would start bleeding again, so I wanted to wait as long before doing my makeup so I could be sure it was done bleeding for good.

As I was trying to decide what to do with my hair, I spotted a red bandana that matched my shirt perfectly, with gave me an idea. I grabbed some hair from the front of my head and let it fall in my face, then pulled the rest back into a ponytail. With the hair in the front, I pinned it up to look like a curl, then sprayed in some hair spray to keep it in place. After that, I took the rest of my hair out of the pony, brushed it again, and put it in a bun on the top of my hair. It looked pretty silly right now, but after I tied the bandana on in between the curl and the bun, it looked cute.

Now that I was done my hair, I ran a hand down the cut on my face. Since it still wasn't bleeding, I figured it was safe to apply makeup. The cut was mostly just below my cheek bone, so I figured if I contoured my makeup properly it probably wouldn't be to noticeable. So that's exactly what I tried to do. After I had finished all of the contours the cut was still noticeable, but not nearly as much. The cut on my lip, however, was actually quite noticeable, so I decided to go with a dark red lipstick to cover it up. Aside from that, I just applied a bit of eyeliner to make my eyes pop, then put on some mascara.

I turned to leave, only to find Dallas standing in my doorway. "You look..." he trailed off. "Like a greaser."

I looked in the mirror and sighed. I knew he was right. My whole point was to resemble a greaser as little as possible without wearing a dress or skirt. "Didn't know you even had the attire to look so rockabilly. You'd never be able to tell you were from New York. Where you goin' that you need to get so dressed up for anyways?"

I went to run a hand through my hair but stopped as soon as my hand touched my head. I kept it there though, and tapped a finger against my bandana anxiously. "A party."

I walked over to my closet to grab a pair of red pumps and put them on, before walking past Dallas and stumbling into the living room. Dallas was following close behind laughing. "A party? A _soc_ party? Like that? That's rich!"

"Don't wear shoes you can't walk drunk in." Dad advised.

I ignored Dallas, and instead payed more attention to Dad. He was right, these shoes would be terrible to walk drunk in. I could hardly walk in them sober. Again, I pushed past Dallas and walked into my room to grab different shoes. I decided to just wear a beat up pair of white converse. They looked better with the outfit, anyway.

As I walked past the living room this time, Dad seemed to approve of my shoes. He nodded slightly, but didn't say anything. I grabbed my leather jacket that I had hanging up by the front door and slipped it on. "I'm gonna head out now." I informed Dad. "Not sure when I'll be back. Will you be here?"

Dad shrugged. I wasn't exactly expecting a solid answer, so it didn't bother me.

"You're wearing that jacket to a _soc party_?" Dallas asked.

Now I shrugged. I already looked like a greaser, I guess it was go big or go home.

It was just past six when I left, because _yes_ , it did take me three hours to get ready. Perfection takes time, doesn't it? As I was walking to Bob's, I felt a little silly on greaser territory. I half expected them to all point at me and call me a poser. I kind of felt like one because of the way I looked. I mean, I knew that in reality I actually was a greaser, but right now it just seemed to obvious. I looked like I was _trying_ to look like a greaser, but in fact my original goal was the exact opposite.

I didn't feel how I usually felt on soc territory, either. I had that kind of feeling you get when you step into your new house after you move; the kind of feeling where you feel like you belong, but at the same time you really feel like you don't. I mean I knew I always was out of place on this side of town, but because I spent so much time over here I started to forget. But now, with the way I looked tonight, it was just so obvious.

When I got to Bob's and knocked on the door, I was let in immediately. The girl who opened the door was the same girl who I almost bumped into yesterday. But she literally only opened the door. She didn't say hello, ask who I was or why I was here, or even smile at me. She just walked away as soon as the door opened. Not that I really cared, though. I'd been here a thousand times before. I knew where everything was, I knew where to find Bob, hell, I even knew the names of over half of the help.

I was about to walk upstairs to see if Bob was in his room, but as soon as I looked over at the stairs Bob started walking down them. He was wearing basically the same thing he did every day, khakis and a plaid shirt, only he hadn't yet buttoned up his shirt. I could see a bit of the stab wound from the way his shirt was, and from what I could tell it was healing up nicely.

Bob smirked at me and wiggled his eyebrows. "Well look at you, all dolled up."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. "Yeah, I know I look lousy. Next time we go to a partly I'll borrow an outfit from Izzy."

"Hey, no, you look great." he stopped in front of me and smiled. "Oh yeah, speaking of Izzy, we're meeting Randy at his place then walking from there. It's only a block and a half away."

I nodded. Last year Bob had been caught drinking and driving and the cops threatened to have his license taken away. That had to be one of the first times a figure of authority said no to him, and it seemed to knock some sense into him.

I waited a few seconds and Bob just looked at me expectantly. "You're going like that?" I asked, referring to his still unbuttoned shirt.

"You just don't want any other girls to look at me." He teased.

I shook my head and buttoned his shirt up myself. " _No_. I've just never looked this greasy on your side of town, and I'd like my protection to look respectable."

Bob put a hand over his heart and pretended to look hurt. "That's all I am to you? Protection?"

I ignored him and left, knowing he'd laugh and follow. Which was exactly what he did. He quickly caught up to me and slung an arm around my shoulders with a smile on his face. My mind flashed back to when Two-Bit put his arm over my shoulders at school that one time, and how Bob got pissed off at him. I frowned slightly at the memory. I was almost sixteen; Bob had to understand that I could take care of myself. I'd been taking care of myself for a while. If Bob didn't learn that soon I'd probably end up forever alone, and it'd be his fault.

When we got to Randy's house we walked straight in without knocking. Randy's parents had learned to expect that from Bob. They'd told me quite a few times I didn't have to knock either, but just walking in seemed weird to me. When we got inside, Bob kicked the door a few times to announce that we were here.

"C'mon, let's get going!" Bob yelled up the stairs.

I turned to face Bob and give him an are-you-kidding look, but as soon as I had my back turned I heard another voice. "Looks like you're on the wrong side of town."

I sighed loudly and turned around. Coming down the stairs was Randy, and up at the top of the stairs stood Izzy. "Oh my gosh, I love your hair!" Izzy gushed. "You need to do my hair like that sometime!"

I laughed a bit. "Don't talk like that, Izzy. Your brother'll have my head and I won't be able to come around here anymore."

"Well ignore Randy, you look great. I have to borrow that outfit sometime, too."

Randy glared at Izzy, then me. "We should probably go."

The whole walk there I walked backwards in front of Randy and Bob so I was facing them. I stumbled a few times, tripping over rocks and other stuff, but for the most part I was good. I'd walked around here enough times with Bob and Randy to know where I was going.

"So, what happened with your outfit? Why do you look so greasy?" Randy asked, not long after we left his place. "I mean, you look fine, it's just not like you to look _this_ greasy."

I shrugged. "Y'know, it wasn't my original intention. But somehow it happened, so I figured go big or go home. I know most of the guys at the party anyways, don't I?"

Randy tilted his head from one side to the other and shrugged, before nodding. "Fair enough."

It was already dark out by now, and you could hear the music from the party down the street. From where Bob, Randy and I were the music just sounded like hums and murmurs, but the closer you got the easier it was to make out. I walked backwards up the stairs to the front and opened it up, then entered, still facing Bob and Randy. The second I entered I was flooded with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol, and the loud music that was playing.

 _I'm gettin' real bugged driving up the same old strip_  
 _I gotta find a new place where the kids are hip_

I smiled. Though the song was terribly overplayed, I still liked it and couldn't help but sing along. "My buddies and me are getting real well know." I sang, continuing to back in the room. I poked Bob with every word, which caused him to smirk at me. "Yeah, the bad guys know us and they leave us al-"

Two hands on my hips stopped me from backing up anymore, and caused me to stop singing in the middle of the word. "Better watch where you're going, Doll."

I calmed down immediately at the voice, though I was annoyed at the nickname. "Shut up, David." I turned around to face him, only to find a smirk that seemed to be permanently attached to his face.

I saw Michael walk up and stand beside David. He nodded at Bob, Randy and I. "I was starting to think y'all weren't gonna show."

David laughed a bit at that. "Alcohol's in the kitchen, guys." And with that, both David and Michael left.

 _That was The Beach Boys with_ I Get Around _, next we have The Shangri-Las with_ Leader of the Pack _._

I frowned at the radio announcers voice. I loved this song, don't get me wrong, but I was disappointed that it wasn't a record playing. I was hoping to listen to more Beach Boys.

I finally decided to look at my surroundings. The house was big, but surprisingly full. I'd been told that there was only going to be the guys at the rumble, maybe a few more, plus some girls, but if this many guys showed up to the rumble it was no wonder how they won. I recognized quite a few of them, but not as many as I was hoping. I did notice that Cherry and Marcia were here, and I wasn't too sure how I felt about that.

I was snapped out of my thoughts to Bob shoving me towards the kitchen, which made me laugh under my breath. I swear, free alcohol is probably the only reason he comes to parties. That, and to talk about sports. You'd actually be surprised how many people Bob could find at a party that would just talk about sports with him. I thought most guys came to parties to hit on girls, but apparently not all of them do.

When we got to the kitchen I saw that there was an island in the kitchen with stools around it, so I went and sat down right away. Bob noticed and rolled his eyes at me, but when he went to grab himself a beer he grabbed me one too. He sat down beside me, but something else seemed to catch his attention. I followed his eyes and noticed a TV with something on it. I couldn't help but think about how stupid that was, since there was no way anyone could hear it over the music.

I didn't know what was on, but I did recognize a face. "I hate her." I yelled over the music.

"Sharon Tate?" Bob question. "Why?"

I shrugged, even though I knew he wasn't looking at me. "She's just Hollywood scum. They're just trying to use a pretty face to brainwash us into buying whatever they're trying to sell. It's pathetic." I looked over to Bob, but he didn't seem to hear a word I said. He was too occupied watching the TV. "Apparently it's working, too."

Bob shook his head. "You don't hate her. No one hates Sharon Tate."

"I want her to die." I informed him. "So I think I hate her."

At that point Randy joined us, sitting on the other side of Bob, beer in hand. Which reminded me, I had my own beer. I had almost forgot. I opened it up and chugged about half of it right away, then made a face. This stuff tasted shittier than any other beer I had. I shrugged it off, though. Maybe if I got drunk enough it would start to taste good.

At one drink, Bob and Randy were both still watching the TV like mindless drones. They only took their eyes off the TV when they realized their beers were gone. When they got up to get themselves another, Bob brought me back one, smiled, then went back to staring at the TV.

Two drinks in, Bob was complaining to anyone who would listen about how unfair the coach was for not letting him be on the football team. "I got stabbed, big whoop." He'd say. I laughed a bit at that. Bob really didn't understand the severity of getting stabbed it seemed. But Bob insisted that eventually the coach would give in. I think most people agreed with him on that, but I heard a few people making bets on whether the coach would give in because of how annoying Bob was, or because of how good of a football player he was.

Three drinks in, an Elvis song came on. It was a slower song, and it seemed to impact the party in a negative way. I knew I'd heard it somewhere before, but I didn't have time to think about that before Randy and Bob started complaining.

"If you're not drunk enough to like Elvis," I started. "Then you're not drunk enough." With that, I got up for the first time since I sat down and got us all another drink. Randy complained, saying something about how he literally just finished his second, but I just smirked. "Keep up."

I had finished my fourth drink before the song was over, and it seemed to hit me harder than the others had. I found myself singing along, which caused Randy and Bob to laugh. "But I can't help falling in love with you." Sang my horribly off-key voice. I was actually a pretty okay singer; I just didn't care enough to try to sound good. I mean, it was only Elvis. Why bother?

Five drinks in Bob and Randy also started singing along to whatever song was playing. It was a song that had a boy and a girl singing, I think it was _Love is Strange_ by Mickey and Sylvia. Whatever song it was, Randy sang the girl part. It was laugh worthy.

At six drinks, David finally came over and joined us. "Having a good time so far?"

"Bob and I want to see who can get more girls' numbers." Randy blurted.

David and I both looked at them, amused. "I'll keep track then." he told them. "Come back in half an hour, we'll count then." David looked somewhere, presumably at a clock, but I couldn't find one anywhere. "Game on."

Bob stumbled a bit getting up, but as soon as both Randy and Bob were gone I turned to David. "Bob's so gonna win."

David scoffed. "No way." I give him a look as if I wasn't convinced he even believed what he was saying. "Ten bucks?"

"You're on." I shook his hand.

He sat beside me on the stool Bob was sitting on and looked at the beer bottles laying around. "You guys sure have drank a lot." I shrugged. Six drinks didn't seem like much, but at the same time it did.

At some point during those thirty minutes when David wasn't looking I found a napkin and a pen on the island. Since I wanted Bob to win, I did what any sensible person would. I wrote down my number. Granted, I had to write it a few times because I kept fucking up, but I wrote it down. And when David looked to see what I was doing, I just brought it up to my lips and pretended I was wiping my face. After David looked away I checking the napkin and it just looked like I kissed the napkin, which worked.

Later on, David spotted Bob and Randy nearby, so he yelled at them that time was up. When Bob walked over to us, I noticed half of his face was red and he had a smug smirk glued to his face. I laughed a bit, but slipped him the napkin when David was too busy counting the numbers Randy got.

After David was done counting, it was determined that Bob had won by one, and I was ten dollars richer. Bob called David and idiot for betting against him, and David just glared at him before walking away.

During my seventh drink, I ended up having a conversation with someone other than Bob, David or Randy. That was rare, even at school. I wasn't really one for making friends or socializing, so I could actually count the number of friends I had on one hand. But I wouldn't call this person a friend. He was more of an old acquaintance.

"Well now, I know that can't be little ol' Candie."

I turned to the voice and smiled. "Hey Paul. Haven't seen you in forever."

Paul was four years older than me. He was a real good guy, but I only really knew him from when he got Bob to start playing football. It was hard to believe there once was a time when Bob didn't play football, but in reality he only started when he was in grade six. Paul's and Bob's parents were close friends, so they spent a lot of time together when they were younger. Sometimes I despised him for ever getting Bob into sports.

"Well now, last time I saw you still drank beer with a straw." I laughed a bit at that. When I first started drinking I insisted on drinking everything through a straw, because I didn't think it tasted as bad that way. In reality the only difference it probably made was that it gave me hiccups.

"It wasn't _that_ long ago." I protested. "Bob dragged me to your high school graduation, don't you remember?"

I noticed my words starting to slur together, and Paul must have noticed to because he started to laugh. "You a bit drunk?"

I tried to scoff, but a hiccup ruined it. "Just a little." I held my index finger and my thumb close to each other, to indicate how little I meant. With my other hand, I waved my beer. "I'm on my seventh."

Paul shook his head with a smile, pat my back, then walked away. Hiccupped again and frown. I turned to Bob and rested my forehead on his shoulder, and hiccupped again a few seconds later. "I have hiccups." I told him, as if it wasn't obvious.

I heard Bob laugh, and I could feel it too from the way his shoulder was moving. "You're just a little baby. What are you even doing here?" he rubbed my head and continued laughing.

I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or not, but either way, it was clear he had a few more drinks than I had.

I waited until the hiccups stopped to move my head. In the meantime, Bob had started up a conversation about football - surprise, surprise - and Randy had taken off to God knows where. I looked out towards the living room and saw David talking to some other guy. I wasn't too sure what they were talking about, but I managed to make out David's voice over the music.

"We need girls for that, ya' goof!" he sounded annoyed, and looked it too. He rolled his eyes and started to walk away, until I walked over to him.

"David, I'm bored and Bob's talkin' about football." I complained.

The boy that was talking to David, who I now recognized as a boy named Bryan, looked between me and David brightly. "She's a girl."

"She doesn't count." David stated, putting an arm around my protectively. "She's off limits. Plus, we need more than one anyways."

Bryan didn't seem too happy with this answer. "C'mon, we can try to gather other girls while she's in there, it'll work."

David was about to speak, but something caught his eye. I looked where he was looking, only to find Bob talking to some chick. I rolled my eyes. I'd only been gone under five minutes, and he'd already found some chick to chat up.

"A couple of us guys wanted to play seven minutes in heaven." David told me, seeming to not care about what he said earlier. "Obviously we can't play it with ourselves, but we don't have any girls playing yet either. I know it sounds so grade seven, but most of these guys are too drunk to care."

I wouldn't know it was _'so grade seven'_. I remember once back then I was playing a game of spin the bottle and Bob got all protective and made me stop, so it stood to reason that seven minutes in heaven would be off limits. But I was almost sixteen, and Bob seemed to be busy enough chatting up that girl, so I figured what the hell?

"I'll play." I volunteered.

David looked a little hesitant, but nodded and pulled a blindfold out of his pocket and started to tie it over my eyes. "Rules; _never_ ask why I have a blindfold. It's a long story that would probably be best left untold." David informed me. "Aside from that, pretty much anything goes. It's called _seven_ minutes in heaven for a reason, so don't start anything you can't finish in seven minutes." I nodded along to what David was saying.

After he was done tying the blindfold on, he turned me so I was facing him. Or at least, I thought so. I couldn't actually tell. "How many fingers am I holding up?" I shrugged, and David made a noise of approval. "Good. You know, you can still change your mind if you want." he offered.

I shook my head. "I'd like to actually do something normal kids do for once, without _someone_ ruining it for me." I heard David laugh slightly.

"That bad, huh?" David and I weren't that close when we were younger, so he wasn't around to see how annoying Bob could be when it came to me. But when we started hanging out, around the beginning of grade eight, he caught on fast. "Well, if you're not going to change your mind, I'll lead you to the room."

For some reason they didn't think to put the blindfold on in the room, or even just outside of it, so I had to walk upstairs drunk and blindfolded. Let me tell you, that takes skill. Skill I didn't have. If it weren't for David and his soberness, I'd have fallen down the stairs by now.

When we finally got up to the top of the stairs, I was lead a couple of steps to the left, then I heard a door open. "You wait in here; I'm going to make sure they don't send some creep up."

Well, that didn't exactly make me feel great.

I paced around the room. I didn't know what else to do. I had to keep the blindfold on because someone would be coming in here soon. Outside of the door I could just barely hear voices. I couldn't make out any of the voices, so I decided not to bother paying attention to them. Shortly after I stop paying attention to them, however, I heard a noise like someone had kicked the wall. It wasn't too loud, but it was enough to startle me and make me jump.

Not too long later I heard the door open and close, followed by the sound of footsteps. The footsteps stopped for a minute and I heard whoever was in here let out a slight chuckle under their breath. It was a chuckle I couldn't understand, though. It didn't sound like a normal chuckle. I couldn't quite pin the difference, but I knew it was there.

The footsteps started again and next thing I knew there were two hand on my hips, slowly backing me up until I was against the wall. It was around that time when I started to wonder if this was actually a good idea. Maybe there was a reason Bob always got mad when I tried to do things like this. I guess it was possible he wasn't as unreasonable as I thought.

I felt one of the guy's hands leave me hand and brush my hair out of my face. I resisted the urge to crack my neck or back when I heard him whisper something. "I need you to just trust me."

I hadn't realized how close he was to me, but it sounded like his mouth was right by my ear. I didn't recognize the voice, though even if I did know the person I wasn't sure I'd be able to tell it was them. The voice was so quiet that it just sounded raspy.

I nodded at the person, but it didn't seem to be what he was looking for. "No, I-" he seemed to notice that he was speaking louder than before, so he lowered his voice again. "Just say you trust me. I just need to hear it."

"Okay, I trust you, alright?"

The person didn't seem to believe it. He took a step back and let out an audible sigh. I heard him pace around the room for a bit, then stop suddenly. The next thing I heard was him mumble "Don't hate me for this."

I'm not exactly sure what it was that I was expecting, but still I was surprised when I felt lips pressed against mine. My breath got caught in my throat. I wasn't really sure what to do. Between the alcohol and my heart racing a million miles an hour, I couldn't think straight. I was hardly even aware that the person's lips left mine, and were now working their way down my neck.

Fortunately, that didn't last long. I wasn't aware of how long I'd been that room, but I heard the door open. I knew who it was before they even spoke, and this was probably the only time I'd ever been glad they'd interrupted anything. Before the person who opened the door spoke, though, the other person removed their lips from my neck and whispered "Forgive me."

"The hell do you think you're doing?" Came Bob's voice. "Get off her!"

The other person, who I still didn't know, removed their hands from my hips and stepped back. I felt one of them - Bob, I assumed - grab my arm and drag me out the door. Again, I was on the stairs drunk and blindfolded, only this time I was going down them. I tripped slightly on my own feet, but the grip Bob had on my arm didn't give me much space to fall. Once we got down to the bottom of the stairs, Bob took the blindfold off.

"What the hell were you doing? What made you think that would be a good idea?" All gratefulness I felt towards Bob slipped away with these two questions.

"What the hell was _I_ doing? What the hell were _you_ doing! I'm not a kid anymore, Bob. I'm sixteen, I can take care-"

"You're fifteen. You're not sixteen for two and a half weeks. And don't even try to say you can take care of yourself, because clearly you can't. Look at you. How much have you had to drink, Candie? Can you even remember? What are you even doing at a place like this? You're the youngest person here, you know that?"

What was _I_ doing here? He was the one who asked me to come in the first place. Bob opened his mouth to say something else, but I spoke faster. "Well I guess I just learn from the best." That made him close his mouth pretty fast. "Why do you care, anyways? Why'd didn't you just keep on chatting up that pretty blond?"

Bob looked angry and annoyed. He didn't say anything for a second, he just looked like he was biting the insides of his cheeks.

 _"Because she isn't you."_

To say I was taken aback by his words was an understatement. I couldn't even look at Bob after he said that. I ran a hand through my hair and glanced around the room. The music was still playing loud, so no one seemed to notice the argument between Bob and I. That being said, I felt like someone was watching me. I felt eyes burning on the back of my head, so I took a better look around the room.

David, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, was smiling at me. Not a normal smile though. This smile was the smuggest smile I'd ever seen on his face. There was also I hint of pride, and something about him looked nervous or on-edge.

I drew my eyes away from David, and looked at the floor in front of Bob. I sucked in a huge gust of air that I didn't know I needed, and avoided looking at him. "What does that even _mean_?"

"It means she isn't the little girl crying on playground on her first day of grade one."

This confused me enough that I forgot why I couldn't look at Bob only moments before. I lifted my head and looked at him with a confused look.

He shrugged and continued. "She isn't the little girl who use to paint all over my arms in art class. Or the girl who was afraid of loving anyone until grade seven because she _actually_ thought babies were made from love. She's not the ten-year-old who tried to run away to California in hopes that The Beach Boys would write a song about her. Or the thirteen-year-old who came back from New York covered in cuts and bruises because she decided to try to seem tough and get in a rumble. Or the girl who decided to name her kitten after an outlaw-"

"Gunslinger." I corrected, under my breath.

Bob rolled his eyes. "She's just some no personality blond girl. She just wants the social benefits of dating a football player. You don't even care that I'm on the football team. More than that, you actually _dislike_ it."

Now I rolled my eyes. Sports were stupid. I'd never liked that Bob was on the football team. When he made the team in grade nine, I decided to try out for the cheer squad. Cheer practice and football practice were usually at the same time, same place, so that way I'd still be able to see Bob pretty much as often as I had before. I made the squad, too. And so all grade nine I was actually a cheerleader. Part way through grade ten, too. But Dallas found out through the grape vine, and I ended up quitting. I didn't know how to explain to Dallas why I was on the team without telling him I was friends with Bob, and dealing with Dallas constantly making fun of me just wasn't worth it. Sometimes I missed being on the squad, to be honest.

"My point is, you're different." Bob snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Are you sure your point isn't that I was the only greaser to make the cheer squad in the past three years, at least?" I joked.

Bob rolled his eyes again, but this time he smiled. "Y'know, you really are something else, Candie."

I found myself unable to look at him again. If any other girl were in this situation they'd be shitting themselves with joy. A football player who liked them _this_ much? Never mind that it was Bob, who would be popular even if he wasn't on the football team. But maybe that was what he meant when he said I was something else. Maybe it wasn't a good thing, like he made it sound.

I looked over to David for help, but he just shook his head, still looking smug. I gave him a pleading look, and the smug look changed to annoyed. 'Don't try to tell me you don't like him.' David mouthed.

I glared at him, but I thought about it. I'd never thought about Bob like that. He was always just like a big brother to me. But weird enough, given the circumstance I wasn't repulsed by the idea of Bob being anything more than a friend. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed normal. It almost felt right, like it was supposed to be.

Bob put a finger under my chin and moved my head so I was looking at me. He raised both of his eyebrows, as if to ask me what was going on in my head. I pushed his hand away and laughed slightly. "I hate you."

He shook his head. "No you don't."

The grin on his face slowly became apparent, as if he knew what was going through my head. I wouldn't be surprised if he did, I'd known him for so long. It often seemed like he could read my mind.

"You're right." I told him. I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. It was just a peck on the lips, but it was still enough to catch someone's attention.

"I was gone _fifteen minutes_." I looked over and saw Randy standing there, looking confused out of his mind. "What the _hell_ happened?"

David walked over, _still_ looking smug, and rested his elbow on Randy's shoulder. "Long story short; me."

Randy turned, making David's arm fall, and his face grew even more confused. "Have you been smoking?"

David looked confused, before he realized what Randy was talking about. "Oh, no. I was in one of the rooms upstairs, someone must have been smoking in there earlier."

At first I thought nothing of it, but when I noticed Bob's irritated look suddenly it all clicked into place. "Wait _you_ were the one in the room with me?"

Poor Randy looked even more confused than he had been prior, but I was too distracted to fill him in. David seemed to be on the same boat as me, or at least a similar one, because he didn't fill Randy in either. "I certainly was."

I sighed loudly and put a hand on my head, chuckling slightly as I did so. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh, so you would have let me kiss you if I did?" David asked. "And you wouldn't have objected to letting me kiss your neck if I explained it was because I was sick and tired of you and Bob both pretending y'all don't like each other?"

Bob scowled at David, which I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen him do before. He took a step towards David, but I quickly stood between them, stopping Bob in his tracks "Bob, really? Just leave it."

Bob began to object. "But he-"

"Kissed me. That's it, Bob. If you feel the need to go off on everyone who kissed me it'll be a long night." Bob gave me a look that was a mix between confusion and suspicion. "We'd also need to go to New York."

Bob looked like he was about to say something, but David gave us an exasperated look. "Come on, guys. I put my beautiful face on the line for this, in hopes you guys would stop being idiots and just start dating already. Don't tell me I did it all for nothing."

I didn't wait to see if Bob had anything to say. Instead, I said the first thing that came to mind. "Dallas would hate me."

If it wasn't obvious, I didn't put much thought into what I was saying. Bob and David both gave me a weird look, and Bob rolled his eyes. "Oh, as if you actually care about what your brother thinks." Bob didn't seem to put much thought into what he said, either, because I'd never heard him say anything that sounded so cocky before. Maybe it was just the alcohol kicking back in again. "C'mon Candie, what d'you say, will you be my girl?"

I'm not quite sure how I heard it over the noise of the music, maybe I just knew in the back of my mind to expect it, but I heard a quiet gasp coming from behind me. I didn't even need to turn my head to know it was the redhead Bob once called his girlfriend. Now, I don't want to say she was the reason why I said yes, but she certainly was my motivation to answer so quickly. "I'd love that."

I felt my face heat up at how stupid I sounded. _I'd love that_? Why didn't I just say yes like a normal person. I was sure that my whole face was a deep red, but Bob snapped me out of my thoughts by grabbing my hand and spinning me around. "Dance with me." He laughed.

I still felt embarrassed, but as soon as I realized Bob didn't care about what my exact words were, it didn't seem to matter. I laughed as well, and let Bob drag me onto the dance floor, past Cherry, and began to dance with him.

 _The wildest short around is my cherry, cherry Coupe_  
 _It's the sharpest Coupe in town and the envy of my group_


End file.
